


Episkey and Other Charms

by edochen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:42:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1377670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edochen/pseuds/edochen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy's seventh year at Hogwarts was supposed to be uneventful and focused. </p><p>Pass his NEWTS, become accepted to St. Mungo's, forget his ex-girlfriend exists. </p><p>He doesn't plan on becoming Head Boy, he doesn't plan on spending time with Jim Kirk the Quidditch golden boy, and sure as hell wasn't planning to fall in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. October

**> >>>1<<<<**

Leonard McCoy came from a line of McCoy men who all had a great deal in common. They were all Ravenclaws, they were all prefects, they were all Healers and they had all worked at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

At a certain point, Leonard McCoy had the potential to become just like them. As a child he’d been all curiosity and bright eyed innocence, an only child in a loving family and the apple of everyone’s eye. But even wizards, for all their knowledge cannot cure all diseases, and his mother had suffered for months before death finally came for her. His father cried. Leonard was ten years old.

They buried her in the backyard next to the peach trees along with Leonard’s childhood.

What remained was a cantankerous young man with a no-nonsense way of speaking, who backtalked his seniors and took shit from nobody. Some had called it rebelliousness, his father knew better.

A late student, he came to Hogwarts by the age of twelve. A year older and a head taller than most of his peers.

The hat sorted him into Hufflepuff.

His family didn’t care. He hadn’t cared either if it weren’t for the fact that Hufflepuffs were almost _never_ accepted to St. Mungo’s. For as much as the parents, the teachers, and the headmaster promised that not one house was better than the other Leonard knew that Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, saw Hufflepuff as beneath them in every way.

Professor Eggleton, head of his house and Charms teacher had never doubted Leonard’s sorting, he’d said as much. Leonard never told him of his ambition to follow in his father’s footsteps but Eggleton had still made him prefect in the fifth year. Even though Leonard knew there were at least a dozen students more qualified and willing to carry the title. It was Eggleton who told Leonard during career advice that his ambition to enter St. Mungo’s wasn’t unwarranted, and it was Eggleton who talked to Boyce to let him help in the Hospital Wing after class.

After that his school days passed by with a messy but generally uneventful flow. He spent most of his time studying, passed his O.W.L.S with ‘Outstandings’ and ‘Exceeds Expectations’ only, did his duties as prefect and continued his days helping Boyce at the Hospital Wing. Amazingly, besides his busy schedule, he had still managed to fall in love, get a girlfriend, get dumped and have his heart shattered into a dozen or so pieces before the sixth year ended.

Leonard had never been all that magnanimous in his perception of life but this all but confirmed that life was there to ultimately screw him over.

They sent the Head Boy badge during the summer, a letter of congratulations accompanying it.  His dad and grandparents had been so proud, but Leonard saw it for the imposition that it was. Making him prefect had been a doubtful decision but he _knew_ he was no Head Boy, not now, not ever.

He wore the title and wore the badge all the same, as he made his way to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, and sat in the front cabin like he’d done for the past two years. Spock had congratulated him for his position, even though everyone thought him most likely to gain the title. It took Leonard some difficulty to grunt a thanks in response.

He didn’t even think about telling the prefects to make their rounds through the train until Spock reminded him, two hours away from the school grounds. The first one to return was Sulu, running. Telling about a fight between a fourth and a sixth year student that made Leonard have to run all the way to the last car of the train.

By the time he got there they’d already broken one of the cabin doors.

The hall of the last car was filled with students, blocking the way, trying to catch a glimpse of the scuffle. Luckily they were mostly first and second years, so the string of lightning and thunder Leonard shot out of his wand while commanding them to go back to their damn cabins, made them scramble out of the hallway like startled mice.

He saw the cabin door first, shattered. Then watched the back of a big guy with a green uniform he recognized right away, Hendorff, sixth year, real bastard. Hendorff was looming over a shorter student, wildly punching away at his helpless frame.

Well, maybe not _that_ helpless, because the second Hendorff took a misstep the short student managed to take his assailant down with one fell swoop of his feet. It surprised Leonard so much, he momentarily forgot he was supposed to break the fight up. Until the boy grabbed his wand from his front pocket, ready to curse Hendorff with something vile, which sprung Leonard into action. Less than a syllable came out before Leonard drew his own wand.

“ _Flipendo_.” The boy’s eyes widened as he got knocked against the wall by Leonard’s spell, getting the air pushed out of his lungs in the process.

Hendorff, the idiot, thought this to be the best time to take one more lunge at the boy, his hands directly going for the boy’s neck. Leonard had his wand on him before he got that far.

 _“Stupefy.”_ Hendorff fell down like a sack of bricks on top of the boy, and Leonard had to shove him away with his foot so the boy could breathe.

“Thanks,” the boy muttered, and with difficulty tried to stand up.

Leonard ignored him, turned back to Hendorff and with a flick of his wand, put a levitation charm on him, so he floated a couple of inches from the ground. Then he turned to Sulu, who was standing there, looking at the scene as if it were a tableau vivant.

“Sulu, bring Hendorff back to his cabin,” Leonard said, in the _nicest_ tone he could muster at the time.

“Right,” Sulu said, and grabbed a fist of Hendorff’s shirt in his hand, and pulled him back to wherever the hell his cabin was.

By that time the boy was up and blood was falling from his probably broken nose.

“Hold your head back, use this,” Leonard said, and with a firm hand made the boy lean his head back and then gave him the handkerchief he had in his pocket to catch the blood. He also grabbed the boy’s upper arm and pulled him away from the glass they were standing on.

“ _Reparo.”_ The door flew back into one piece, fitting back into the doorway. Leonard slid the door open to the empty cabin, it stuck a bit but he was never great at that spell anyway.

“Get in here and sit down,” he said to the boy, and the boy obediently followed and sat opposite to him still with his head back, the bloodied handkerchief pressed to his nose.

This was the first time Leonard could get a good look at him, his wool sweater had the Gryffindor emblem embroidered on his chest and was pulled out of shape and stained with blood. He could also see the beginning of a black eye forming, his lower lip was split and his nose was still bleeding. He had to give the boy credit though, Hendorff hadn’t looked much better.

“You sure know how to pick your fights,” Leonard said, as he moved from his seat opposite the boy to next to him. “Let me take a look at that nose.”

The boy let go of the handkerchief to let Leonard see.

It was definitely broken, but nothing too bad. “ _Episkey._ ” A small cracking sound and the bone was back at its original position. “Try to breathe in through your nose.”

The boy took a good sniff, and smiled. Despite the gashed lip and the blood on his lips, the boy had a nice smile. He also happened to have the bluest eyes Leonard had ever seen, so that when he was looking at them he not only wondered who the boy was, but even more so how had never noticed him before.

“You’re pretty good at that,” the boy said, breaking Leonard from his stupor by nudging towards the slightly stuck cabin door with a smile that showed no memory of the fight he’d been in moments ago. “Mending things.”

“Yeah that’s me, the fixer.” Leonard said acerbically, moving back to his seat opposite the boy. “’reckon bones are my specialty.”

The boy was feeling his nose with his hand, not in a lot of pain anymore. “I agree.”

Leonard noticed the knuckles of the boy’s hands, red and scraped by connecting with Hendorff’s hard head. “Hold your hands like this.” He demonstrated by showing with his own hands, the boy copied so Leonard could mend the injured skin. He did his black eye too, while he was at it.

When he was done, and even cleaned the dried blood off the boy, he leaned back into his seat and sighed. Rolled his shoulders back to recover from the tension already building in his neck and from being completely unsuitable for his job.

The boy was watching him as he did so, blue eyes intently on him as he licked his split lip.

Leonard looked right back.  “I’m letting you keep the lip, otherwise you’ll never learn,” he said. “Don’t _you_ fix it either.”

“I won’t,” the boy said, very serious, turning his face towards the window, watching the scenery flow by as the sun was setting.

The boy was a paradox, if Leonard ever saw one. Shoulders low and restless legs like a boy, but eyes so focused and he seemed so much older than he was, perhaps even older than Leonard himself.

Leonard didn’t realize he was staring until the boy turned back to face Leonard, who was by now making himself very comfortable in the cabin, his feet all the way up the bench.

“Don’t you need to be somewhere?” the boy asked, looking at the head boy pin on Leonard’s chest.

“Yeah well, if they ask, I’ll say I’m keeping an eye on you,” Leonard said, closing his eyes.

“I’ll make sure to tell them,” the boy said, a flash of amusement in his eyes. “You’re watching Jim Kirk, by the way.”

“What?” Leonard said, opening one eye and looking at the boy.

“My name,” Jim said. “Is Jim Kirk.”

“Oh,” Leonard answered stupidly, but held out his hand lamely still lying down and Jim took it and shook it with a laugh. “McCoy, Leonard McCoy.”

“I know who you are,” Jim said. “You help out in the Hospital wing, and apparently, you’re Head Boy now. Congratulations.”

“Yeah.” Leonard said acerbically. “It’s a real honor.”

Jim shrugged. “I’ve been told.” He pulled his legs up on the couch as well and leaned against the window.

The rest of his journey was so deliciously uneventful that Leonard managed to fall asleep until it was time to get out of the train. Jim, who hadn’t talked after Leonard closed his eyes was already gone, Leonard didn’t know where, when he groggily made his way back to the front of the train to round up the prefects.

Not that there was much rounding up to do. The prefects were already there, waiting for him. Spock raised an eyebrow when the first thing Leonard did when he saw them was yawn.

“Right, well, you two,” he pointed at two fifth year whose name he’d already forgotten. “Make sure none of the first years get left behind, the rest of you,  join in with your classmates.”

Feeling at least a little guilty he helped the two prefects make the last check of the train, and he took one of the last carriages himself to school. He hated the carriages, always felt hollow eyes of the Thestrals following, burning on his skin. He’d always wondered if the creatures knew why he and others like him could see them.

The last carriage leaving was filled with mostly Ravenclaws, who probably would’ve kept riding if it weren’t for the head boy pin now gleaming on his chest. That didn’t mean he didn’t have to sit at the rear, with some of the baggage, but Uhura was kind enough to join him there with a blanket to keep them warm. Nyota Uhura was a fifth year, very clever, very beautiful, current seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He had been friends with her since last year when a fall off her broom during practice had left her with a broken arm and leg  and a nice long visit to the hospital wing.

Uhura had a kind of wittiness about her which Leonard could appreciate, and she never was one to mince words, which Leonard appreciated even more.

“Heard you’ve broken up a fight in the train,” Uhura said, obviously amused as they swayed side to side with every movement of the carriage.

“Don’t even talk about it,” Leonard grumbled. “Hendorff and some other kid, Jim Kirk, I think he might be in your year.”

Uhura let out a laugh, a clear and melodious sound. “He’s a year below me actually, seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Actually I’m surprised _you_ don’t know him.”

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because he’s Jim _Kirk_.” When that didn’t ring a bell, Uhura added. “Son of George _Kirk_.”

“The auror?” Leonard asked, surprised.

“The one and only.”

“Oh,” well shit, everyone knew George Kirk.

“You _really_ didn’t realize he was his son?” Uhura said, surprised. “He must’ve liked _you_.”

The kid had been all smiles despite getting his ass kicked. Leonard had just assumed the kid was deranged, never thought it was because he didn’t recognize him as a hero’s son. The boy had some shoes to fill, that was for sure.

They rode the rest of the way talking about other things, the new year, Leonard’s _last year_ at Hogwarts. Uhura pestered him on his plans for the future, made him tell all about his summer at St Mungo's. She got as much out of him as she could before they finally got to the school grounds, and said goodbye just before making it to the great hall.

The Start-of-Term Feast was just about to begin, and Leonard and Uhura had to half run to their seats before headmaster Archer began his welcoming speech. Then the first years started to stream in one by one, scared and nervous as always.

This was the seventh and last time Leonard got to watch this ceremony, boys and girls being sorted in their house by the sorting hat. He tried to give it an honorable goodbye, but honestly, he wasn’t all that interested. He looked around, glanced at the table behind the sorting hat, where he saw professor Eggleton, who, when he caught his eye nodded to him in greeting, a mischievous smile on his face.

Leonard gave him the politest scowl he could manage before turning his attention back to the last sorting.

The last boy, Pavel Chekov, was young and looked even younger. Cherubic curls and bright eyes. When he sat on the chair, the Sorting Hat placed on his head nearly flopped over his teeny little head.

“ _Hufflepuff,_ ” he heard someone say, but it wasn’t the sorting hat. He turned towards the snickering children at the Slytherin table, eyes almost murderous, but Spock got them to shut up with a simple raise of his eyebrow. Then he turned to Leonard and nodded, and Leonard nodded back in thanks. He didn’t like Spock all that much actually, and he never bothered to remember his first name, but Spock had always been fair if a little cold. This again, the collected way he managed to reel his peers in, just went to show he was the best choice for Head Boy. Better than himself anyway.

“Gryffindor!” The hat yelled out, and the boy, Chekov, beamed as the Gryffindor table started to cheer loudly, being the last student sorted in their House. Gary Mitchell, Gryffindor’s oldest prefect who was supposed to keep them all in check, probably cheered loudest of all. Leonard watched as Chekov was hauled into the group like some kind of trophy, and Mitchell lifted him into a bear hug before sitting him down next to him. Then Mitchell turned to Jim, who was sitting on the other side, and ruffled his hair. Jim smiled from ear to ear but unlike his peers, was still sitting good-naturedly. He saw Leonard staring at him and shrugged.

Leonard shook his head but smiled back. 

He’d never understood that House.


	2. November (1)

**> >>>2<<<<**

 “I can’t believe you’re not going. It’s the _first_ game of the season, Len.”  Judging by the look Christine Chapel was giving him, Leonard was sure she was seconds away from punching him in the throat. 

They were sitting by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room, Leonard comfortably warming his feet after spending his Potions class in the damp and cold dungeons. The fact that winter was just around the corner didn’t help much either.

“So,” he said. “I don’t like Quidditch, and it’s raining.”

“Then use an impervius charm,” Christine said impatiently.

“I’m working at the hospital.” Leonard said.

Chapel made a frustrated noise, balled her fists, but managed to take one last deep breath before asking one more time in the calmest voice she could manage. “Leonard, you are _head boy_ , and _I_ think, it’ll be good for the team, if they saw the head boy rooting for them at their first game of the season.”

“Who are we playing?”

“Gryffindor.”

“Then I’m basically going to watch our house _lose_ the first game of the season,” Leonard said. “Besides, I already told Boyce I’d be helping out with the inventory.”

He had to slide down all the way off his comfortable sofa to dodge the pillow Chapel flung at his face.

“Fine,” she said. She didn’t mean it. “See if I care.” Her long hair flicked behind her as she turned towards the door.

“Don’t forget the impervius charm,” Leonard called after her.

The next pillow she threw hit him square in the face.

The heavy rainfall outside on the school grounds echoed a calming sound into the hospital wing. The school was deserted because, rain or not, no one ever missed the first Quidditch game of the season. The silence that followed, combined with the rain and the monotonous chore of counting the number of Pepperup potions in stock made one thing very clear in Leonard’s mind. He had made the right decision by staying indoors.

Philip Boyce, their patron, was in Hogsmeade, stocking up at the pharmacy. Boyce believed this year’s Quidditch games would be particularly rough. Personally, Leonard believed Quidditch to be ridiculously rough to begin with.

By the time he was done with the inventory and had remade the beds with a quick cleaning spell, it was hours away and it had stopped raining. Leonard had brought the Daily Prophet with him, and he sat on one of the beds while he attempted to finish that day’s crossword puzzle. When he gave up, he read about a couple of cases of Vanishing Sickness in Beauxbatons. His father had written him about it, and he was currently in France trying to prevent it from becoming an epidemic.

Before he managed to actually finish the article a thrumming sound began to echo through the corridors, which meant that the Quidditch match was over. Most passed the door without a single glance in, girls and boys speaking so animatedly that they barely noticed the large room, let alone give it a second glance. However the most rumbustious lot of them all, a group of boys and girls screaming _“Go, go, Gryffindor”_ waltzed right into the hospital wing. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, with in the middle Jim Kirk, covered in sand and grinning along with the other idiots. From the way he had to be hauled up and winced in pain with every step his teammates took he probably had a couple of broken ribs.

Leonard shook his head at the sight.

_Jim Kirk._

This was the second time that year he’d seen that boy up close and Leonard could not believe he had successfully gone through three years without ever meeting him before. In the past two months he had come to understand that _everyone_ knew Jim Kirk, not only for his father’s legacy but also from Jim’s own reputation. Leonard had learned that conduct-wise Jim Kirk seemed to cost the Gryffindor House the most points each year, points he managed to earn back by consistently scoring extraordinarily well in all of his classes. He was promiscuous to say the least, his reputation with the girls in his year, as well as those below _and_ above him, preceding him. Yet at the same time he seemed to be popular with his peers and had a circle of friends that came from all four houses, including Slytherin.

That alone was an admirable feat for the pointless heroisms Gryffindors were known for definitely resonated in Jim Kirk. In fact, as Leonard watched Jim suspended between his friends with that grin on his face, when it came to Gryffindor characteristics Jim Kirk probably took the cake.

 “I fell,” Jim announced hands in the air like he was cheering himself on, then immediately slumping down until Gary Mitchell hauled him back up. “I caught the snitch and then I fell.”

“I bet you did,” Leonard said, taking Jim from Mitchell’s grip and guiding him to a hospital bed. He then turned around to the still cheering group. “Quit your hollering, this is a hospital.”

They quieted down immediately, but kept smiling and bumping into each other with such abundant energy that Leonard told them to get out.

Instead of moving away, Mitchell took Jim’s face in both hands and kissed him on the cheek with a loud smack. _“Our Champion,”_ he nearly crooned, which turned Jim’s cheeks bright red.

“Take a hike, Mitchell,” Leonard said, nodding to the door. Mitchell moved his merry young men (and women) back to the Gryffindor common room very loudly, but without protest.

It took a while before their voices stopped echoing through the corridors, but Leonard only turned his attention back to Jim when he couldn’t hear them anymore. Jim was watching him while shifting uncomfortably trying to find the most comfortable position for his ribs. There wasn’t any because they were obviously broken, Leonard could see that much, even with Jim’s clothes in the way.

“Was it worth it?” Leonard asked, while lifting Jim’s shirt up to his shoulders, so that the bruised side of Jim’s chest lay bare.

“Falling, you mean?” Jim asked, shivering when Leonard put a hand on his lower chest. “Your hands are cold.”

Leonard ignored that and examined Jim. He also tried to ignore the fact that Jim was looking at him the entire time. “I think you’re lucky,” he said after a while. “Two broken ribs, I think another one bruised.”

“How long till I’m back on my feet?” Jim asked.

“Three weeks,” Leonard said. “Maybe four.”

“In time for the Ravenclaw match,” Jim said, relieved.

Leonard rolled his eyes.

Jim looked amused when he did. “Do you like Quidditch?” he asked. “I looked for you during the game, but I couldn’t find you.”

“Don’t know much about Quidditch, but I thought the Seeker was supposed to look for the snitch.” Leonard said, his tone artificially lackluster.

“And I found it,” Jim said, chest swelling with pride, and quickly deflating with pain. “But I didn’t find you, Bones.”

“Well, I was here. Who the hell is _Bones_?”

Jim’s blue eyes danced with pleasure. “I’m calling _you_ Bones, because you keep having to mend my bones. I just made it up.”

Leonard looked at him incredulously. “Yeah, please don’t call me that.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, it suits you.” Jim said, smiling.

Leonard shook his head but didn’t say anything, instead he took his wand out of his sleeve. “ _Ferula.”_ Bandages spun up Jim’s chest and neatly bound it to ease the pain of the break.

“Thanks,” Jim said, sitting up and breathing with visibly more ease.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Leonard said, tucking his wand back in his sleeve. “And don’t come back here again.”

“Can’t promise anything,” Jim said, hopping off the bed and trying to hide the pain that followed. “Been here a couple of times last year too.”

“Really?” Leonard said, genuinely surprised. “Strange, I would’ve remembered _you_.”  
  
Shit, that didn't come out right. Judging by the way Jim smiled, Leonard was sure he noticed it too.

“I remember _you_ though,” Jim replied, winking. “See you later, Bones.” Leonard just stood there, tongue lost, as Jim pulled his shirt back down and walked out of the hospital wing without looking back. Jim was well along his way when Leonard finally realized he was staring.

 


	3. November (2)

**> >>>3<<<<**

After three months of school, it was tradition for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher to organize the Annual Dueling Tournament. This coincided with the time the second year students mastered (to use the term loosely) their disarming spells, which made them eligible duelers in the magical world.

The tournament was completely voluntary, but the prospect of house points and ‘eternal glory’ meant that dozens of students signed up every year.

It was open to second to fifth year students only. The teachers at least figured that letting the first years duel would be too irresponsible. Sure, they had just as big a chance of winning against each other as the second years were, but the first years were more prone to mess up their spells. Professor Eggleton had sent many a first year to the hospital wing who accidentally turned a simple ‘ _wingardium leviosa’_ into an exploding mess resulting in scorched eyebrows or worse during class. Actually, the second years were prone to do this as well.

The sixth and seventh years weren’t allowed to participate due to their O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. a rule that chagrined a lot of the older students. Leonard didn’t mind, he had successfully ignored all of the previous tournaments during his education at Hogwarts, even when he was one of the prefects who performed as referees during the matches. As Head Boy he didn’t get a chance to talk himself out of showing up.

Together with the Head Girl T’Pring and professor Pike they were supposed to make sure none of the duels got out of hand. For all the complaining Leonard did about the tournament, not a lot of them did. Still, last year a third year student lost his pinky, by his own spell no less. The hospital wing was still filled with students with nasty cuts and bruises from banishing spells ricocheting off the walls because a couple of fourth years believed they could teach it to themselves instead of waiting for another year.

Fortunately, unlike Quidditch, the dueling tournament only took a single day and as inexperienced as most students were, matches were usually finished within a couple of minutes. They were down to their last matches of the day, and Leonard had told most of the prefects they could go back to their dorm if they wanted. Most still hung around though, cheering for their peers and friends.

Dehner and Mitchell had bailed first chance they had, and the seventh year prefects of Ravenclaw were gone too. Christine Chapel was refereeing a match in the back of the room, a couple of second years who had been going at it for ten minutes by now. 

He was waiting by one of the dueling pistes, his last match for the day, when professor Pike came up to him.

“Enjoying yourself, Leonard?” he asked.

“Not really, sir,” Leonard said, not even trying to sound pleasant.

“Figured as much,” Pike said, slapping a hand on Leonard’s shoulder. “Chapel’s duel is finished, so there’s two more fights and then you’re done.”

“One,” Leonard said, “Next match is the fifth years’ finals.”

“Change of plan, McCoy,” Pike said, crossing his arms. “Thought it’d be nice to have the fourth year and fifth year champions have a go at each other.”

“With all due respect, _sir_ ,” Leonard started. “I don’t think that’s very safe.”

“Spock said as much,” Pike said, clearly not moved by Leonard’s statement. “So you two are assisting as seconds.”

“I’ll ask Chapel to do it,” Leonard said, his voice resigned.

“Can’t,” Pike said sternly. “She will be assisting the second and third year with T’Pring.”

Leonard was going to say something else, when the fifth year finalists stepped onto the piste. Nyota Uhura first, but that was no surprise. The other girl he knew only by first name, Gaila, she was a good friend of Uhura and Leonard knew of her reputation as a gifted witch…among other things.

Nonetheless, it promised to be an interesting duel.

Gaila smiled at her friend enthusiastically, her red curly hair in a messy bun on top of her head. Nyota, who had let her hair loose from her signature ponytail smiled back at her, clearly excited for the match. They walked up to each other, drawing their wands, and with every step they took towards each other their smiles slowly disappeared. They’d played many matches now, and they were both determined to win.

“Wands at the ready,” Leonard said.

Nyota and Gaila both flicked their wands into the first position, both took a bow, and then walked back to their own sides of the piste.

“On the count of three,” Leonard said, figuring after the number of duels they’d both done, they didn’t need any more explanation than that.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“ _Aqua Eructo!”_ From the tip of Uhura’s wand shot a jet of water directly aimed at Gaila.

“ _Protego!”_ the jet deflected off Gaila’s shield and immediately spread across the room in a thin nebula. Leonard, who was standing in the middle, quietly cast an repelling charm on himself, and continued to watch the fight.

The girls were great duelers, able to quickly deflect and counter each other’s attacks not only with great skill but with considerable grace as well. In the end it took a while before Uhura managed to gain the upper hand, and by the time she had finally managed to cast an _expelliarmus_ quick and powerful enough so Gaila couldn’t deflect it, most of the students still in the room had gathered around their piste.

“The victor, Nyota Uhura,” Leonard called out and the students around started cheering while Uhura held her hand out to Gaila and pulled her back on her feet.

They both laughed as Gaila held both their hands up in victory, and made Uhura spin around and take a bow.

“Good job, girls,” Leonard said when they climbed off the stage, both of them congratulated by most of their peers. “Ready for your last match?” Leonard asked, and the winning smile Nyota gave him was more than answer enough.

With the number of spectators who all needed to say something to the new fifth year champion, it took a while to get to the fourth years piste, and by the time they got there, the people around were also cheering for their champion.

Jim Kirk stood victoriously with two wands in his hands, Carol Marcus sitting on the floor looking very disappointed. Spock called the fight, and Jim crouched down to give Carol her wand back, a gesture nice enough to erase at least a bit of Carol’s frustrated expression. She stepped off the piste, greeted and praised by her friends who all didn’t make it nearly as far.

Leonard figured as much, in fact he didn’t expect anyone else on that piste but Jim when he heard that he had signed up.  

A loud whistle quieted the entire room down. Pike had walked up to the piste and was now standing there next to Jim who was still catching his breath. Jim saw him in the crowd and smiled at him, Leonard, knowing what followed, only half smiled back.

“Now, for the last match the fourth and fifth year champions will duel each other,” he said, and he clicked a heel on the wood beneath his feet which made the piste he was standing on double in width, the students slowly stepping back to make way. “Assisted by two seventh years.”

By the announcement the students around him immediately started mumbling and looking at him, and Spock who was standing on the other side of the table.

“If the fifth year champion would enter the piste,” Pike said, looking at Uhura.

Uhura climbed up the stage and stood on the other side of Pike.  “Spock will assist you,” he said, and Spock nodded and walked to the corner of Uhura’s side, where he, completely adhering to protocol, bowed to Uhura, who bowed back.

“McCoy,” Pike said, his voice a lot more commanding than when he summoned Spock. Pike really did know him well. He climbed on the stage, gave Pike a glance, and then stood next to Jim, taking his wand on hand. Together they walked to their side of the piste.

“Never thought of you as much of a fighter,” Jim said, his voice low.

“I’m not,” Leonard said.

“Think we can win this thing?” Jim asked.

McCoy rid himself of the sweater he was wearing. “Let’s just try not to get hurt,” he said glancing back at Spock, dueling champion four years in a row.

“But I want to win,” Jim protested.

“Take positions,” Pike said, and their conversation was cut short as they had to walk up to each other again.

“Wands at the ready.” They all flicked their wands, took their bows and walked up to their corner.

“You’re already giving up,” Jim accused.

Pike started to count down.

_“Three.”_

“I didn’t say I want to _lose_ ,” Leonard said.

“ _Two.”_

“I’m just saying you ought to,”

_“One._ ”

“Watch your back.”

“ _Expelliarmus.”_ “ _Everte Statum.”_ Both of the spells that flew their way were meant for Jim, and Leonard watched as they quickly disarmed him and threw him back.

Leonard had to turn towards their opponents quickly enough, and without missing a second had his own wand at the ready.

“ _Arresto Momentum_ ,” he said, pointing at Jim, who now instead if falling, simply drifted to the floor. “ _Accio_ wand,” Leonard continued, and he caught Jim’s wand and tossed it at Jim’s feet.

“Thought you wanted to win,” he said, before quickly casting a counter-hex to the Bat-Bogey one thrown at him.

Jim crawled back up, wand at the ready, but Uhura was quicker still.

“ _Aqua Eructo,”_ A jet of water, more powerful than her last one came at them.

“ _Protego_ ,” Jim said, just powerful enough to send the water to every corner but theirs, soaking the people standing too close by.

“ _Aqua Eructo.”_ Spock now mimicked, and another jet of water, even bigger came flying their way.

“ _Fianto Duri.”_ Leonard added, making the shield bigger and more durable. He gritted his teeth as he waited until the water subsided, caught a glimpse of Pike, watching his eyes dancing with mirth and with a big deflecting charm around him that kept him nice and dry.

Glad _he_ was enjoying himself.

“ _Stupefy._ ” After they had deflected Spock and Uhura’s spells, Jim finally set in the offense which put the game back to a level-playing field. Both teams took their turns both receiving and sending spells but it was almost eerie how much in sync  Spock and Uhura were, easily sending spells their way that either augmented or complimented each other. Not that Leonard and Jim weren’t a force to be reckoned with. Leonard, principally refused to send any remotely offensive spells their opponents’ way, but he was more than adequate at making sure that none of the spells directed at themselves could hurt them. That way, Jim could focus entirely on the offense, and his range of spells was definitely bigger than the average fourth year’s student.

Uhura had to do all she could to defend herself from them all, but the ones that got through were caught by Spock who mostly only had to flick his wand, not saying a word, whilst doing so. Leonard too, after a while stopped saying them out loud, as the shielding and deflecting spells he cast grew more numerous.

With the way things were going, Leonard was sure he and Spock could manage for a couple more hours, but their partners were not. Jim was growing impatient, and started to make sloppy mistakes with his charms, Uhura too, who was getting vexed by Leonard’s insistent defense, started to fumble a little.

Still, Jim and Leonard were still able to get the upper hand. Uhura had the precision and skill, but Jim had talent and was completely unpredictable. They only needed one spell to get through Spock’s defense, just a single one and their victory was imminent.

One look from Leonard was all Spock needed to figure his strategy out.

“ _Expelliarmus.”_ Leonard’s and Spock’s spell went for each other almost simultaneously. But Leonard already knew the disarming spell he sent was nothing like the one coming his way. Spock’s wand sprung from his hand off the piste effectively disarming him but the spell that hit Leonard knocked him flat on his back and threw his wand far away from him.

The surprise had just been what Uhura needed, because as Jim was instantly distracted by Leonard’s fall, she had enough time to cast one last spell.

“ _Carpe Retractum._ ”  A golden light enveloped Jim’s body, and Uhura had to put all her weight into it and nearly fell on her back if it wasn’t for Spock keeping her balance. She managed to pull Jim down to the floor, who fell with a surprised yelp dropping his wand in the process.

The second Jim’s wand touched the ground the crowd exploded into a loud cheering. Pike’s announcements of the victors weren’t even heard anymore. Leonard was still sitting on the ground, and watched Uhura beaming on the stage.  Spock, ever the emotional one, had the smallest of smiles on his face as he said something to Uhura and then took another bow before her. Uhura bowed back, a perfect duelists greeting, before getting hugged from behind by Gaila, who looked just as happy as if she had won herself.

As well as they had fought, almost no one was paying attention to Jim anymore, who had turned on his back and was watching the scene. He had a content smile on his face, giving her a thumbs up which Uhura mimicked when she saw it. Leonard had to admit, the kid wasn’t a sore loser.

Leonard stood up, picked up Jim’s wand and then held out his hand for Jim so he could pull him back on his feet. “Disappointed?” Leonard asked, handing Jim his wand.

“A little,” Jim admitted, sticking the wand in his front pocket. “But it was a good fight.”

Leonard had to agree to that, but he still would’ve been just fine with not being knocked on his ass today. He lowered himself off the piste, and Jim jumped after him. Leonard’s wand had landed a couple of yards away, and Jim and him spotted it on one of the other pistes, safe from the trampling feet from the students.

Without being able to warn him, Jim picked up the wand, and from the wands tip a tiny bolt of lightning came and stung Jim’s fingers. Jim cursed and dropped the wand as quickly as he grabbed it.

“Sorry,” Leonard said, picking the wand up again. “It always does that when other people touch it.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jim said, clenching and unclenching the fingers of his hurt hand.  “Unicorn core?”

“And Laurel,” Leonard said. “It’s always been really attached to me.”

“Can’t blame it,” Jim said. “It suits you.”

Leonard quietly tucked his wand in the sleeve of his sweater, where he usually had it. For as much excitement as the dueling games were, there weren’t actually any prizes awarded to the winners except for house points, so the room finally started to clear out a bit now that the excitement was over.

The second and third year students were mostly gone, the fight between the second year champion and the third year probably not taking as long as their own duel had done.

Chapel and T’pring were also nowhere to be seen. That was Chapel’s loss, Leonard was sure she would’ve loved seeing him getting thrown on the floor. He had nowhere to go until professor Pike told him he could, so he sat on the piste and waited, and Jim without being asked sat next to him and patiently waited with him. In a way that was the current scope of their relationship. Leonard wouldn’t say that they were friends, but they definitely weren’t strangers anymore. Leonard on his part didn’t believe they were actively seeking each other out, and the chance meetings they had were just that. By chance. Still, he had to admit that he rather liked Jim’s company from time to time, even if they weren’t really talking.

Leonard doubted that many people noticed but when Jim was quiet, he seemed lonely.

Jim got into fights with upperclassmen, but he always fought on his own. Whenever Leonard saw him sitting in the library, it was always in a secluded corner, far from everyone else. For all Jim’s attitude and energy, he seemed to actively seek out moments to be on his own almost as much as he sought the attention and the spotlight.

Jim, before sitting down, had taken his wand out of his front pocket, and now held it loosely in his hand.

“How about yours?” Leonard asked, looking at Jim’s wand.  “I’m guessing dragon heartstring.”

Jim shook his head. “Beech with phoenix feather,” he corrected. “and it has a mind of its own.”

“A stubborn wand for a stubborn wizard,” Leonard said.

They sat quietly as they waited for the last of the students to leave the room until only professor Pike, Uhura and Spock were the only other people in the room.

Uhura and Spock were speaking calmly by the piste they’d won their fight on, their backs turned to Leonard and Jim. Judging by the engrossed look on Uhura’s face the conversation was very interesting, and Leonard was certain he’d never seen Spock speak that long to another student before, let alone a junior.

With the room mostly empty, Pike flicked his wand and the classroom turned itself back to its original state. Both Leonard and Jim had to quickly step away from the piste, which was transfiguring itself back into a table and with loud balloon like popping the extra lamps that had lit the room turned back into chairs, dropped from the sky and slid themselves back into position.

“Professor Pike, am I free to go?” Leonard asked, stumbling back to the tables pulling Jim with him by the upper arm when a couple of persistent wall hangings almost assaulted them by the wall.

“Yes,” Pike said. “Good work today, Leonard.”

“Thanks,” Leonard said sarcastically. Pike ignored him.

“You too, Jim.” Pike added and stopped his wand ministrations for a second so he could look at Jim. “I have high hopes for you next year.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jim answered, and it was easy to tell that Jim for all his indignant tendencies took a shining to professor Pike, the head of his house.

Leaving Pike, Uhura and Spock behind, Leonard and Jim made their way back to the main hall for dinner which was already being served.  They joined Chapel, who was sitting at the far end of the tables together with Gaila and Pavel Chekov, the first year Gryffindor he remembered from the sorting ceremony.

“I heard Spock knocked you out,” was the first thing Chapel said, before Leonard even had the chance to sit down.

“You heard wrong,” Leonard said curtly, before scooping up a serving of mashed sweet potatoes.

“Spock’s spell threw him back a couple of yards though,” Jim said, taking the potatoes and serving twice as much for himself.

Chapel laughed. “I _knew_ it.”

“Gee, Jim, thanks for correcting me,” Leonard said sarcastically.

Jim shrugged. “It’s the truth.” He almost stuffed an entire potato in his mouth, and barely chewed it before swallowing it down. “How did it go with you guys?” Jim asked.

“She lost,” Gaila said, looking at Chapel but not sounding unkind.  “T’Pring was very good.”

“You didn’t watch _our_ match?” Jim asked, surprised. “I thought you’d want to cheer Uhura on.”

“I knew Nyota was going to win,” Gaila said as if she were stating the obvious.

Jim snorted. “Thanks for the support.”

“Oh, I think you’re a good wizard, Jim,” Gaila said, but sounding more sympathetic than truthful. “But Spock and Nyota are really very good together. They’re good friends you know.”

“Really?” Chapel interjected, and Leonard could already see the excitement in her eyes she only got when she was sensed juicy gossip.

“They both take Advanced Arithmancy Studies.” Chekov stuttered in a faint Eastern-European accent. Everyone turned to him, and judging for his red cheeks, he was a little flustered by the number of upperclassmen around him. “And they are both Seekers.”

“Well _that_ confirms it then,” Leonard said sardonically. “God knows no one else is taking Advanced Arithmancy Studies.”

“I take it,” Jim said, mouth full of potatoes.

“Me too,” Gaila said. “So is Scotty.”

“Professor Pike wants me to start the class after Christmas,” Chekov said quietly.

“After Christmas? Wait a minute, how old are you?” Leonard asked a little abashed.

“I’m ten, sir.”

“Don’t call me sir,” Leonard said, being a year older than most of his peers made him feel old enough. He looked at Chapel like it was somehow her fault they were having dinner with a bunch of overachievers.

“Well, don’t look at _me_ , I didn’t even take Arithmancy,” Chapel defended, open hand against her chest in insult. “Besides, you’re one to talk Leonard, you’re basically accepted to St. Mungo’s and we haven’t even taken out N.E.W.T.S. yet.”

“Really?” Jim said, and his big blue eyes stared so unbelievably towards Leonard that he had to look away.

“No I’m _not_ ,” Leonard said, irritated. “And could you please stop saying that, Chapel, you’re jinxing it.”

“Oh please Leo,” Chapel said rolling her eyes. “After all your hard work how could they not?”

Leonard looked at the food on his plate, he hadn’t touched it and the fork he had picked up was resting limply on his fingers. “I put in the hours, sure,” he said. “but what I need is luck and lots of it, and you and I both know I’m not the luckiest person.”

“If it’s luck you need, he’s sitting next to you.” Gaila said, with a smile. “Jim has the tendency to beat the odds.”

They all knew what Gaila meant by that, but the implication alone had made the table quiet, and Chapel, Chekov and Leonard were looking at Jim holding their breath. Not a lot of people still mentioned he was the ‘boy who lived’ straight to his face.

Jim however, was busy with his second helping of apple pie, his expression completely unreadable while he emptied the bowl of whipped cream on top of his plate.

“Sure, I’m lucky,” he finally said, his voice sober but Leonard was a connoisseur when it came to sardonic undertones. “So if it’s luck you need, you just go to stick by me, Bones.”

With that the tension ceased, and Leonard finally took a bite from his, now lukewarm, potatoes.

“Maybe I’ll do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are interested, I tried to get the wands through the Pottermore Ollivanders quiz.  
> Leonard McCoy; laurel with unicorn core, fourteen and a half inches, quite flexible  
> Jim Kirk; beech with phoenix feather core, twelve and a half inches, unbending  
> Nyota Uhura; ash with unicorn core, eleven and a half inches, hard  
> Spock; black walnut with unicorn core, fourteen and a half inches, unyielding  
> After checking the characteristics of the wand I think they fit quite nicely. Spock’s in particular would become very powerful in his hands in time. Feel free to find out more about their prospective wands via pottermore/HP wiki.
> 
> N.B. the piste or strip is the playing area for fencing duels. Hence the word piste. It sounds funny doesn't it? it's French, oh la la.


	4. December (1)

**> >>>4<<<<**

Leonard was freezing.

He was wearing three layers of clothing, not to mention his bright yellow scarf which he had knitted and charmed himself. That way it was literally impossible to blow away in the wind while he was flying. This was not unnecessary, he had lost at least three scarves during Hogsmeade visits. His favorite being an orange one that would aggressively follow him around when he tried to leave the castle without it on cold and windy days.  He shuddered at the thought of the teachers finding out he’d lost it by a village on the way.  

Chapel was sitting on her broomstick next to him, levitating a little in the air. She was wearing a knitted throw in a black and yellow pattern which Leonard had knitted for her last Christmas at her own request. Unlike Leonard she preferred her scarves uncharmed and she had to tie it over her head like a hood to shield herself from the cold and to keep it from falling off.

They were waiting until the Hufflepuff third years were rounded up for their first ever visit to Hogsmeade. Usually, the head of the house had that task but Eggleton, probably realizing how cold it was, had asked them to do it. On the other side of the courtyard Leonard could see professor Marcus, effortlessly getting his Slytherin students in order. Professor Barnett as well, was patiently tending to his Ravenclaw students.  They, for one, hadn’t bailed on their students.

Then again, from the looks of it Pike wasn’t there either.

“I want a neat line, not more than three people next to each other.” Gary Mitchell’s voice carried along the courtyard. Over by the Gryffindor students, Mitchell was busy getting the third-years in a passable flying formation while Dehner, the other seventh year prefect, quietly walked to the front of the line.

“I heard they’re an item now,” Chapel said when she noticed Leonard looking at them.

“Really,” Leonard said, but he wasn’t particularly interested.

“They both take extra Divination classes,” Chapel said. “Pike thinks they both have the potential to become Seers. Can you imagine, two _actual_ Seers?”

Leonard gave Gary Mitchell a second look. Even among the magically gifted clairvoyance was extremely rare. Leonard, who had no interest or talent for the subject didn’t know how quickly he could drop that class. As much as a Quidditch buff Mitchell seemed to be, there was always more to him than met the eye. He was smarter than he looked, more talented too. Clairvoyance must’ve been the cherry on the cake.

Finally the last two students came running up to the courtyard, and after a good scolding, Leonard went to the front of the line as Chapel went to the back so they could fly towards Hogsmeade. The minute they were up in the air Leonard was already regretting that he didn’t bring gloves, the winter chill cutting his hands like knives. By the time they made it to High Street he couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

For the last time he barked the rules to the third years, and after making them repeat said rules he finally dismissed them. They all ran off quickly enough, from excitement, fear, or both, leaving just Chapel and him. Chapel had untied her throw and had draped it over her shoulders. She slung her arm around Leonard’s and smiled. “Let’s go get a butterbeer.”

The Three Broomsticks was crowded. Which was normal during the school’s Hogsmeade visits. It was a little difficult to find a table, but after some incessant glaring from both Leonard _and_ Chapel, they managed to get a good and relatively quiet spot in the corner of the inn. They sat down with their back to the expanse of the room and faced the wall instead. This had been customary for them ever since they both became prefect. The theory was that as long as they didn’t _see_ any students making trouble, they didn’t actually have to intervene either, which made their Hogsmeade visits that much more enjoyable.

“Cheers,” Chapel said, clinking her glass against Leonard’s.

The butterbeer was nice and warm and quickly brought back the heat in Leonard’s body. Chapel drank the foamy top off her own beer before setting it down and looking at Leonard with an enigmatic smile on her face.

“What?” Leonard asked, already not liking the direction of the conversation they hadn’t even begun.

“Nothing,” Chapel said, eyes dancing. “I was just wondering when you were going to tell me.”

The direction was definitely not to Leonard’s liking.  “Tell you what?” he asked with even voice. He’d been friends with Chapel ever since they sat in the same cabin in the Hogwarts express during their first year. Which is why he knew that look on Chapel’s face. It meant unadulterated gossip was nearby. “Do I even _want_ to know?” he added with narrowed eyes.

Whether he wanted to know or not, Chapel began talking. “Last night I was talking to Janice in the girls’ lavatory on the third floor and—” she paused and bit the inside of her lip to stifle a smile.

“And?” Leonard asked impatiently. “What, which Janice, Janice Rand?”

“Yes, of course Janice Rand, which other Janice is there?” Chapel said, a little lofty. “Anyway, Rand told me she was at the Quidditch pitch Wednesday afternoon because she was waiting  for M’Benga. He’s one of the new Slytherin chasers and Janice totally has a thing for him ever since he caught that Quaffle a couple of inches from the —”

“Chris, I don’t care about any of this.”

“S _hut up_ Leonard, I’m getting there. So Janice was waiting by the pitch when she overheard Gary Mitchell talking to Jim Kirk by the goal posts,” Chapel traced her finger over the outside of her glass while she spoke, drawing little patterns over the misty glass. “Apparently, Mitchell wanted Jim to stay behind after practice so they could go over his low dives one more time to prepare him for their upcoming game against Ravenclaw. You know how fast Uhura is when it comes to diving catches, Leonard.”

“I really don’t.”

“Well, you _would_ know if you would come to the games like I asked you to.” Chapel said in a nagging tone.  “But Mitchell asked Jim if he would like to stay behind and Jim said no, because he said he was meeting up with someone later. Someone important.”

Leonard shrugged. “Probably professor Pike.”

“If Pike had actually been at Hogwarts on Wednesday evening instead of at Hogsmeade, then, yes, it would’ve been Pike.” Chapel said. “But I find it very odd that you say that even though you know _exactly_ where Jim Kirk was that Wednesday afternoon.”

Leonard looked at Chapel sideways, with his brows a little furrowed. “He came by the hospital wing briefly, but I hope that’s not where you’re going with this.”

“Where else would I go, Leonard?” Chapel said. “Jim Kirk totally has a thing for you, and I know that you know, and I know you haven’t admonished him for it. I think it’s because you like him.”

“ _I_ think you tied that scarf a little too tightly around your little head.” Leonard answered, unimpressed.

“ _Leonard_ ,” Chapel said, exasperated.

“Christine,” Leonard said back.

Chapel huffed. Whatever way she thought their conversation was going to be like, this obviously wasn’t it. “I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult about this,” she said, her voice a lot more dour than seconds ago. “I mean it’s not like you’ve been with anyone since you and _Jocelyn_ broke up.” She said the name like it was one of the curses she’d learned in Pike’s class but Leonard still preferred she hadn’t said it at all.

“Can we not mention her name please, thank you,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“Fine,” Chapel said. “ _She-who-will-not-be-named_.”

Leonard sniffed. “That’s better.”

“Well I for one am still annoyed with you. I mean you didn’t even tell me you were seeing Jim at all. I had to hear it from _Janice_.”

Leonard sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Chapel held up her head in self-mocking immodesty. “I’ve been told I’m _very_ persistent.”

“Fine,” Leonard said, exhausted by their conversation. “He came by a couple of times during my shifts at the hospital wing. But they were always right after Quidditch practice, and he always had injuries.”

Chapel let out a deriding laugh. “Of course he would have injuries. You being as monomaniacal as you are probably wouldn’t even give him the time of day if he hadn’t at least broken something.”

 _“_ I am _not_ monomaniacal.” Leonard said, more riled up than he wanted to be. “And maybe he’s just reckless, or clumsy.”

Chapel pursed her lips. “Right,” she said. “But he’s only clumsy on Wednesday evenings.”

“Unbelievable,” Leonard said, shaking his head. What Leonard found unbelievable wasn’t of course Chapel’s imagination running wild (which he in turn found _ridiculous_ ) but more so the extraordinary quickness gossip traveled at Hogwarts.

Fact of the matter was that Leonard _had_ seen Jim Kirk at least twice a week ever since the dueling tournament, which could be considered a bit excessive seeing as they weren’t in the same year or House. But so what? If he was looking forward to Wednesday evenings a little more than he used to do, well, it was probably because the kid had a natural knack for crossword puzzles. Besides, what person in his right mind would break his right clavicle just to have a little tête-à-tête in the hospital wing. Leonard’s bedside manner was far too terrible for that.

“We’re just friends,” Leonard said, and moved to drink his butterbeer so he didn’t have to look at Chapel observing him.

Chapel smiled knowingly and leaned with her elbows on the table.

“You should ask him out,” she said.

Leonard nearly choked on the butterbeer in his mouth. “He’s a fourth year,” he exclaimed in between coughs.

“And you’re a seventh year, big deal,” Chapel said.

“He’s a kid, it’s not right,” Leonard said, after clearing his throat. “I don’t even understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“Because I want you to be happy, Leo.” Chapel said. “Do you remember that? Happy?”

“I _am_ happy,” Leonard said, but he despised the frantic way the words came out, and with that and the way Chapel suddenly looked at him with a look in her eyes that Leonard could only identify as pity, the conversation took a sour turn.

“Chris,” he began, and he leaned forward so he could place his hand on Chapel’s. He hadn’t managed to utter a single word when someone patted him on the back, hard.

“McCoy, fancy meeting you here.”

Leonard turned to see Montgomery Scott, red-nosed from the cold, with a glass of Firewhiskey in his hand. Scott was the seventh year Ravenclaw prefect and had just recently turned eighteen.

The momentary sad spell hovering over their conversation had disappeared suddenly with their invading guest. Scott probably didn’t even notice the slight pause until Chapel finally smiled at him and said with a kind voice: “Scotty, come join us.”

Chapel gave Leonard a look, but Leonard was deliberately not looking at her. Instead, thankful for a way out of their conversation, he stood up.

“You can take my seat, I’m leaving anyway,” he told Scott, and in an unconscious attempt to mimic Scott’s earlier greeting he patted Scott’s shoulder before grabbing his half-empty glass of butterbeer.

“Leonard, wait,” Chapel said half standing up from her seat, not even trying to hide the concern in her voice.

Scott who had just realized he had butted in during a presumably awkward conversation, tried to look unconcerned while uneasily nursing his whiskey.

“Don’t worry,” Leonard said, and he tried a little half-assed smile as he waved a little package he had stuffed in one of his pants pockets. “I’m just going to the post office.”

Chapel glanced form the package in Leonard’s hand to his face then, reassured, she nodded and sat back down. “I’ll meet up with you on the High Street later.”

“Will do,” Leonard said. “Scotty.” He raised his glass at Scott who did the same, then he emptied his glass of  butterbeer in one go and left it on the bar before going outside.

Leonard shivered, zipped his coat up and stuffed the package as well as his hands deep inside his pockets. The package was a gift for his father’s birthday, seven pair of knitted socks which Leonard had charmed so they would always stick together as a pair no matter how careless you were with them. Due to his new duties as  head boy it had taken him a week longer to finish the gift, which meant that, should his father get it on time it needed to go by express owl. Taking it to Hogsmeade with him had thankfully also saved him from the cringe worthy conversation Chapel had in store for him.

Chapel and he had always been so close, when Leonard had been sorted into Hufflepuff he was thankful that at least she was there with him. She was caring, hard-working, patient and a little devious when she wanted to be, the truest of Hufflepuffs. Chapel always had a large group of friends around her, and even more so admirers who watched her from afar. Leonard had always counted himself fortunate to be a part of her most intimate friends. She’d never liked Jocelyn, but she was kind enough never to express that when Leonard was dating her, and tried not to mention her too much after they broke up. Still, Leonard preferred if Chapel didn’t mention her at all.

With most students preferring to spend their free time at Hogsmeade’s more exciting places it was nice and quiet in the post office and within minutes Leonard was back on the street. The messenger owl the clerk recommended would guarantee his father would be wearing his socks before breakfast.

As quick as the errand was, it had given Leonard time to clear his mind a little and gain some perspective. What he decided was that he didn’t want to try to scowl his entire day away and could probably make it up to Chapel by taking her to that dreadful tea shop just past Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. He hadn’t even taken a step however when a heard a commotion at Honeydukes, right in front of him.

A Honeydukes clerk was holding two young students tightly by their upper arms as they whined pitifully. They were followed closely by Spock who had an even more unintelligible look in his face than he usually had. Leonard ran over, knowing that, whatever happened it definitely meant trouble. 

“What’s going on here,” Leonard demanded, almost blocking the clerk’s path. The clerk took a quick glance at Leonard’s badge before letting go of the two boys’ arms who both winced. From the colors they were wearing they were a Gryffindor and a Slytherin student.

“I caught them stealing Fizzing Whizzbees by the handful,” the clerk said scornfully. “Luckily a prefect was nearby or I would’ve alerted the authorities.”

Leonard took a look at the two boys, one Slytherin, one Gryffindor, who shrunk back at his scrutinizing stare.  They were obviously third years, on their first trip to Hogsmeade, and completely terrified.

“I assume they’ve given back what they’ve stolen?” Leonard asked.

The clerk nodded. “Made sure of it myself.”

“Okay then,” Leonard muttered, then he shot a look at the Gryffindor student who almost jumped. “What’s your name?”

“T-T-Tomlinson, sir,” the boy said.

“Now Tomlinson, I want you to apologize to this man and beg him, not to report you to the authorities,” Leonard said before looking at the Slytherin boy. “That counts for you too.”

The boys being as frightened and as sorry as they were the managed to splutter out the most heartfelt apology Leonard had heard in a long time. The clerk, who had been more outraged than angry anyway, gracefully accepted it and made his way back to the store leaving just Spock, Leonard and the two students who were still a little shaken.

“Tomlinson.” Leonard said.

“Yes, sir.”

“I want you to go to a prefect from your own House and say that you need to be taken back to school grounds immediately. You won’t be going to Hogsmeade for the next couple of months so you can think about your actions,” Leonard sighed at the sight of the boys, who with their red faces and hunched figures were both looking more pitiable by the second. “From today I will expect you two to behave like model students. If I hear anything, if only a whisper of the two of you misbehaving, so help me God I will hunt you down myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

“All right then,” Leonard said, pretty sure he’d instilled enough fear in them to last them a year. “I think that’s enough punishment for now.”

As if summoned by Leonard’s words, Spock, who had silently watched Leonard from the sidelines (and Leonard had gladly ignored him all the while) stepped forward. “If I may interrupt, McCoy,” he said levelly. “I believe petty theft, though a minor offense is unbecoming  of a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Alerting the heads of their House as well as their parents is imperative in this situation.”

The boys winced, either at the mention of their parents or the professors of their House.

“I hardly think that’s necessary,” Leonard said, but he didn’t really have any interest in arguing the matter. “They said they were sorry, and I doubt they’ll do it again.”

“I agree,” Spock said. “Even more so if we alert their guardians  both in and outside of the school.”

“Are you kidding me, Spock?” Leonard said. “For God’s sake, they’re thirteen years old. They made a mistake they apologized and they’re getting punished. What more could you want?” Leonard was losing his temper fast, even more so because Spock seemed completely unaffected by their argument.

“You may not be aware of this but as head boy you are responsible for the well-being of the entire student body,” Spock said as if he was explaining something complicated to a six year old. “As there are certain rules for this type of misconduct I believe that you as representative should act accordingly.”

“As head boy and representative of the entire student body I’ll act as I see fit, Spock,” Leonard said gruffly, grinding his teeth. “And since you’re a prefect I have authority over you. Which means you or another prefect from your house will take this student back to the castle like I told you to.”

Spock said nothing but simply raised his brow, and still Leonard had the itching desire to punch the bangs from his face. But whatever Spock had _wanted_ to say all he did was tilt his head. “Very well, come with me.” He looked at the Slytherin student who had the face of a someone led to slaughter, who followed behind him as Spock went god knows where.

Not that Leonard cared, he was still fuming and almost barked to Tomlinson when he said he had to follow him. They walked in the direction of the Three Broomsticks, even though Chapel was probably gone by now. Tomlinson, despite Leonard’s foul mood looked rather relieved. Undoubtedly because he was a Gryffindor student and not a Slytherin. This meant he got to go with the first Gryffindor prefect Leonard could find: Hikaru Sulu. Knowing Sulu he’d probably laugh at Tomlinson’s story, and wouldn’t give him any more reprimanding than he’d already had. Leonard shook his head at the thought, lucky bastard.

He’d been so lost in his own mind that he hadn’t noticed a loud voice calling for him until it was accompanied by a firm nudge against his shoulder. “Earth to Bones.”

Jim was waving his hand in front of Leonard’s face when he finally snapped out of his thoughts. “Jim, stop that,” he said and he pushed the hand away from him.

“Sorry, thought you were ignoring me,” Jim said with a beatific smile on his face.

“Jim, you coming or what?” From the other side of the street a couple of Gryffindor fourth years were standing, waiting for Jim.

“Nah, go on without me,” Jim yelled back.

The fourth years looked at them both and from afar Leonard could see they were whispering to each other. He was certain what he was witnessing was another grapevine forming which Chapel would have a blast with. Without more protest the boys however kept walking to wherever they were going and left Leonard and Jim alone. That’s when Jim turned his attention back to Leonard.

“Didn’t know you would be here,” Jim said.

Leonard frowned.  “Why wouldn’t I be.”

“Because every time I ask if you’re going to do something fun, you say,” Jim scowled and continued in a comically low voice.  “I’m _head boy_ , Jim, I’m busy.”  

Leonard huffed. “That’s because I _am_ busy.”

A chilling gust of wind played up and Jim shivered. Leonard noticed Jim was wearing neither a coat or even a scarf. Without thinking he removed his own scarf and gave it to Jim.

“Here, you’ll catch a cold,” he said, as the yellow scarf automatically twisted itself snugly around Jim’s neck. Jim looked surprised at the bright yellow thing now wrapped around his neck but didn’t make any attempts to remove it. “You charm all the things you knit?” he asked.

When it’s useful,” Leonard said, pulling the collar of his coat further up. A couple of Gryffindor girls who were standing just a couple of feet away giggled, and perhaps it was because of Chapel’s earlier confession but Leonard could swear they were talking about him. He defensively turned his back on them and pretended not to notice.

Jim who wasn’t stupid and had craned his neck to look at the girls as well, smiled. “Want to go get a drink somewhere?”

Leonard considered this for a moment. If they were going to the Three Broomsticks while half of Hogwarts sat there people were definitely going to talk.That only left two options, and since one of them was that godforsaken tea house that actually only left one option.

“Hog’s Head or nothing.”

 “Hog’s Head it is.”

Jim could probably figure out for himself why Leonard insisted on Hog’s Head but he didn’t ask. He just walked beside him with a big smile on his face and talked about Charles Rasmussen who, from Jim’s description was apparently a Quidditch player of some renown who Leonard had never heard of.

Hog’s Head was the dingiest pub in the neighborhood and frankly the biggest shithole Leonard had ever set foot in. So as Leonard had hoped there wasn’t a single Hogwarts student present. That probably had something to do with the hair-raising creeps who frequented the pub; none of them were people you would be happy with to meet in a dark alley (or even a brightly lit one).

Leonard didn’t get intimidated easily, so it hadn’t mattered to him that much. Judging from the easy way Jim picked them a table by one of the dirt stained windows, Jim wasn’t intimidated easily either.

“I’ll get us drinks,” Leonard said, before sitting down. “What do you want?”

“Firewhiskey,” Jim said.

Leonard raised his eyebrow. “You think I’m wearing this pin as decoration, kid?” he asked, although he was craving to buy one for himself. Now, he obviously had to set the right example.

“In that case, butterbeer,” Jim rectified.

Leonard ordered two butterbeers and brought them to the wonky table they were sitting by. He sat down opposite to Jim, who was still wearing Leonard’s scarf and sat in his chair, completely at ease.

“How’s your shoulder,” Leonard asked.

“Better,” Kirk said, automatically rolling his shoulder back and down. “Good enough for Mitchell to say I still can’t miss a single Quidditch practice.”

“He’s fine with you losing motility in your arm for a dumb game?” Leonard said with raised eyebrows. And Chapel called him monomaniacal.

“He’d sell his soul for that Quidditch cup. You know Gryffindor hasn’t won the cup in the past five years right? And Mitchell says it’s his dream to hold that cup in his hands before leaving Hogwarts.” Jim said. “And don’t call Quidditch _a_ game. It’s _the_ game.”

“As compared to?”

“Well, as a muggle raised wizard I can tell you soccer and basketball aren’t really things to write home about,” Jim sniffed condescendingly. “And table-tennis is just stupid.”

After the first words Jim said, Leonard was already distracted. “I didn’t know you were muggle raised,” Leonard said surprised. “Both your parents are wizards.”

“My mom remarried a muggle,” Jim said. “And because she didn’t want to freak him out she wanted us to hide our magic.”

“How did that work for you?”

Jim smiled. “I made his car fly off a cliff when I was ten years old. But other than that nothing but the occasional fire.”

“And your brother?”

“Totally vanilla,” Jim said. “But he hated our stepdad so he subconsciously taught all the vines in our front garden to whack him at the back of the neck when he wasn’t watching.” Jim made a whipping sound and snapped his wrist. “He’s studying sentient fungi in Honduras now.”

“Your brother’s a herbologist?” Leonard asked.

“Apparently a pretty good one too.” Jim said. “Not that I would know a good herbologist from a bad one, I’m dropping that class first chance I get.”

“Are you sure you aren’t going to need it later,” Leonard asked. “I mean the Auror program recommends N.E.W.T.S. in—”.

“Who said I wanted to become an Auror?” Jim interjected, his eyes suddenly turning stone cold.

“Sorry,” Leonard said. “I just assumed.”

“Most people do,” Jim said. “Just because my dad was this amazing Auror doesn’t mean I want to be.”

His tone was suddenly so indignant that Leonard laughed. “Well, you don’t _have_ to be an Auror,” Leonard said. “Personally I think a Quidditch career is a lot more  promising. I’ve never seen someone fall off his broom so many times without dying.”

“Well, it’s my only excuse to visit the hospital wing.” Jim said, still a little angry but feeling a little silly about it.

Leonard pretended not to hear for a second, instead thought about Chapel and how, goddammit, she may have been right about the kid after all. Then, he lifted his glass to his mouth and before taking it to his lips said: “Don’t be cute, Jim. It doesn’t suit you.”

Jim mimicked Leonard’s movement, and in an attempt not to be cute tried to keep a straight face before putting the glass to his lips.

Leonard had to admit that was pretty cute.

When there weren’t students with their prying eyes and constant misconduct Leonard could finally forget his head boy status for a while, and stop feeling guilty for no reason at all for spending time with a kid several years his junior. Talking to Jim never actually felt that way anyway, for all his cockiness Jim was lot more mature than most if not everyone gave him credit for. Every once in a while he’d let it show. It was mostly the frustration, almost bitter, in a lot of things. Most of them concerning himself, his parents or his brother.

Still, not even then when it was just the two of them did Jim directly share anything. He’d sometimes let things drop subconsciously. How he didn’t talk to his brother anymore, how his mother never saw him off before he boarded the Hogwarts express, how unimpressed he seemed to be with his father.

Leonard wasn’t one to talk, he didn’t share anything at all. But Jim didn’t pry, he was more than content with talking  with Leonard about absolutely nothing at all for hours on end. Making Leonard laugh, despite himself, and attempting to vex him for his own amusement. It made for good company, so that when they decided it was time to go hours had gone by and Chapel was already waiting for him at the High Street with the third years students.

Leonard quickly paid for the both of them and they as good as had to run their way back to the main street. Chapel was standing at the same spot where they had split up the group and  when she saw Leonard she looked unhappy for a second. Until she noticed who Leonard was with. Her expression immediately changed from annoyed to elated. Leonard threw her a glare before turning to Jim.

“Keep the scarf, but wear a coatnext time,” he told Jim.

Jim touched the scarf, who had twirled itself back on his neck while they were running.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Leonard said, and walked up to Chapel whose expression turned more and more smug each second.

“Don’t say a word,” he told her, before quickly hurrying to the front of the line after fetching his broomstick.

“Then I’ll just think it,” Chapel said, just loud enough for him to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a while. And looking at the next chapter that may take a while too. So it's easier to subscribe for those who want to read this till the end (hang in there bro). 
> 
> I try to spell check on my own but I don't have beta-readers so if you see a mistake please mention it and I will fix it (and appreciate you forever).


	5. December (2)

**> >>>5<<<<**

September, October and November came and went before Leonard knew it. With his work at the hospital wing, his homework _and_ his responsibilities as head boy the days had simply flown by. The Christmas holidays were a welcome breather, albeit an unusual one.

Like he thought, the Vanishing Sickness at Beauxbatons had turned into an epidemic. So for the time being his father was stuck in France.

Taking the opportunity, Leonard convinced his grandparents to spend the holidays with old friends. Darling as they were, he always did feel like he was claiming them to himself. As an only child with a working father they had spent as much time with him as they could spare but while Leonard didn’t fancy himself a man in the true meaning of the word, he thought himself old enough to manage without his grandparents.

Besides, staying at Hogwarts gave him a chance to get a head start on his N.E.W.T.S.

With the Hufflepuff Common Room uncharacteristically quiet, he usually found himself a spot below one of the sunny windows to study. Though, with the crisp warmth of the fireplace and the fact that he was utterly exhausted he spent most of his time napping. Coincidentally, Leonard found that the Standard Book of Spells Grade 7 was an excellent book to fall asleep under before and during breakfast.

Not that it mattered; Leonard’s favorite perk to being a Hufflepuff was that the kitchens were right around the corner. The house-elves never minded him nicking a few leftover rolls and cups of coffee.

The mornings when he did make it to breakfast he’d always sit with Jim, who hadn’t missed a single Wednesday-afternoon crossword puzzle ever since his first Quidditch game.

After breakfast they usually played a friendly game of wizard’s chess. Well not exactly _friendly_ , Jim decimated Leonard with very little mercy and Leonard often wondered why he even bothered to play at all.

“Bishop to D5,” Jim said, mouth full with a half-chewed sticky bun.

Jim’s bishop slid over to the tile next to Leonard’s king and gave him a hard whack against the back of his head. The king stumbled and fell.

“Check and mate,” Jim said, watching his bishop drag Leonard’s king off the board.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonard grumbled while pouring himself another cup of coffee.

“Want a rematch?” Jim asked, as he handed Leonard his own cup.

“I think I’ve gotten my ass kicked enough for today, Jim,” Leonard replied.

Jim shrugged, and with a tap of his wand let the chess pieces stash themselves back into their case.

Leonard looked around him, besides Jim and himself, there were less than a handful of students in the Great Hall. It was odd, Leonard had never seen Hogwarts so deserted before, with even some of the teachers gone to their homes and families.

“I told you it’d be empty,” Jim said, correctly guessing Leonard’s train of thought.

“I know,” Leonard said. “Still takes some getting used to though.”

“Feeling homesick?” Jim asked, only half joking.

Leonard made a derisive sound. “Wouldn’t call it homesick.”

“What would you call it?”

Leonard shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “A break with tradition, I guess.”

Jim closed his chess case and shoved it into his bag. “You miss singing carols by the piano, building snowmen, drinking eggnog,” Jim summed up, the mocking tone not lost to Leonard.

Leonard frowned. “I don’t live in a Victorian Christmas novel, Jim.”

“Sorry,” Jim said. “When I hear tradition my mind just--” Jim made a spastic gesture with his hands. “So what _is_ Christmas like at your place?”  

“My dad gets the biggest Christmas tree he can find so we end up having to shrink it before it fits into the living room,” Leonard started, sipping his drink while he thought. “Last year I shrunk it to about the size of a teacup just to mess with him.”

Jim laughed.

“He insists we decorate it without magic and he wants us to use every single ornament we own, even the broken ones, so it usually looks like a couple of Cornish Pixies threw up on a conifer,” Leonard continued with a lopsided smile. “On Christmas Eve there’s always way too much food, my granddad spikes all the drinks and in the morning we open our presents and eat leftovers until we’re sick.”

Jim was listening attentively, his elbows leaning on the table. “Sounds like fun,” he said.

Leonard looked down into his half-empty cup, feeling a little homesick after all. “Yeah, it is fun.”

Jim stood up. “Then we should do something fun today, like you do back home. Anything you want, Bones.”

Leonard sucked the air between his teeth and furrowed his brow. “Anything I want huh?”

They went to the Herbology greenhouse soon after that. Jim with one apple in his mouth and about half a dozen stuffed in his bag and Leonard with his copy of Advanced Potion Making under his arm.

“You know,” Jim said. “When I said we should do something, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

Leonard was flipping through his book and hardly listening. “You told me I could do anything I wanted,” he said.

Jim hoisted himself on the windowsill, backed away a little when he realized he was dangerously close to a rather hungry-looking chomping cabbage, and snorted. “I also used the word _fun_ , did you not hear the word _fun_ , Bones?”

“It’s an elixir to Induce Euphoria, Jim,” Leonard said with affected cheerfulness but still with his nose in the book. “It literally can’t get any more fun than that.”

Creating the elixir was the single most depressing potion practice Leonard could’ve imagined for himself. He was drenched from the shoulders up by the vapor bubbling up from the strange smelling greenish liquid in his cauldron. He was hot, he had a runny nose and he’d just spent the last hour and a half brewing something which was bound to fail.

He wiped his clammy hand over his even clammier forehead, moving the wet bangs away from his face. The corners of his Advanced Potion Making book was starting to curl up from the humidity in the room. “Sopophorous beans,” he muttered to himself, trying to stay focused despite the numerous distractions.

Jim had used the past hour to forge a deep bond with the cabbage next to him. He was loudly eating his fourth apple and fed parts of it to his even louder chomping friend. Even more annoying were Jim’s legs, dangling up and down in a constant motion, banging against the wall of the greenhouse each time.

 _Bang, bang, bang_.

Leonard tried to cut one of the beans, which didn’t break open but bounced up and hit him square in the forehead instead.

Jim smacked his lips and gave the apple core to the cabbage who happily chomped it up with loud crunching noises.

“Look, do you mind?” Leonard said between clenched teeth.

“What? I’m quiet,” Jim said, his brows furrowed in offense.

“No, you’re just not talking,” Leonard said with a huff. “Those are two different things.”  

Jim huffed back. “I can’t help it if you’re brewing the potion wrong.” He hopped off the windowsill and moved the cabbage to a sunnier spot. “And I can’t help it if you insist on studying even though it’s the day before Christmas.”

Leonard used his sleeve to wipe the drops of water accumulating on his forehead away. “You didn’t _have_ to join me, you know,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t mind, I enjoy your company,” Jim said dismissively. He walked up to the cauldron and the open book next to it. “By the way, an elixir to induce euphoria,” he started, and looked back at the cauldron. “Is supposed to be blue before you add the beans,” he crinkled his nose. “And I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to smell like that.”  

“Don’t you think I know that?” Leonard replied impatiently, making another attempt to cut a sopophorous bean. “ _Gosh darn it._ ” It slid away from under Leonard’s knife and shot under one of the tables. 

“It’s easier to crush the bean with the side of the knife,” Jim said.

“The book says to cut it,” Leonard muttered back.

“Yeah, well, the book doesn’t know what it’s talking about,” Jim replied. “Just let me…” He took Leonard’s hand, the one that held the knife, without urging Leonard to let go.

Jim’s hands were smaller than Leonard’s but still easily guided the knife between the both of them. He leaned closer to Leonard in order to reach for another sopophorous bean, so close that Leonard could feel his breath on his neck making all the hairs there stand on end. “Here,” Jim said, and completely oblivious he turned Leonard’s hand so the blunt end of the knife was on the bean. He crushed it easily and the juice came out. “See?” Jim turned to look up at Leonard.

Leonard swallowed. “Yeah,” he said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as funny as he felt it did. “You’re right, thanks.”

The addition of the sopophorous beans turned the mixture light blue. Close but not perfect to the white color it had to have before the wormwood was added.

Jim didn’t move back to his spot by the window but glanced into Leonard’s book again. “How about eight sprigs,” he said, even though the recipe called for five. Leonard didn’t protest, not when Jim took his wand and stirred vigorously until the mixture turned a pristine white like it was supposed to be.

Leonard handed Jim the wormwood who took them with a muttered ‘thanks’ but was otherwise still completely focused on the cauldron. His expression Leonard had only ever seen when they played chess, the times when Leonard came close to winning  and Jim had to concentrate for a change.

This time as well, Jim seemed to be completely absorbed into what he was doing. Though with the wormwood turning the mixture a light steadily darkening yellow Jim’s focus lapsed again, and he began humming something familiar while he stirred.

Leonard looked at him funny. “That’s some old stuff you’re singing, Jim.”  

Jim shook his head. “ _A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love_ isn’t old, Bones, it’s a classic.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just old,” Leonard said with a chuckle.

Jim laughed softly, now done stirring he looked up from the cauldron, directly at Leonard. “Maybe I just like ‘em old.”

Leonard was thankful he was already red all over from the heat of the room, and hoped it was enough to hide the red rising to his cheeks.

“Oh, well,” he tried, but he felt the need to clear his throat when he saw how Jim had crossed his arms and was looking at him, smirking.  At a loss he turned his attention to the cauldron as if it had all of a sudden become the single most interesting thing in the entire world. “Have you made this before, Jim,” he asked.

Just like that, Jim’s attention was back on the elixir. He took his wand and stirred the mixture anti-clockwise again. “My brother taught me a couple of years ago,” he explained. “He wanted me to have a leg up at Hogwarts and since I was a disaster at Herbology --.” He shrugged, figuring the rest spoke for itself. He also continued stirring until the mixture turned a sharp yellow color and a faint rainbow emitted from the cauldron.

“Amazing,” Leonard said so low Jim could’ve barely heard it.  

“I even got the musty smell out,” Jim said, examining his work. “Wasn’t much of a rainbow though.”

“It’s the best I’ve ever seen it,” Leonard said.

Jim smiled proudly. “Is it?”

They used a simple mug Leonard had taken with him from the great hall to scoop a sample of the elixir out. In the mug the liquid was an even more golden yellow than it seemed before and a sweet smell steamed up from it.

Visually, the brew had all the characteristics of the euphoria inducing elixir.

“Do you think it’s any good?” Leonard asked Jim, giving the mug a scrutinizing look.

Jim took the mug in his hand and looked at its content. They’d only half-filled it and Jim swirled the liquid so that it almost sloshed out. “Sam always says a true potion maker has complete confidence in his ability,” he said and he put the mug to his lips and drank its entire content in one go.

Leonard almost choked when he saw it, and for a second he didn’t know what to do. He instinctively reached for Jim, about to whack the mug out of his hands as if he were swatting a fly, but when he realized that wouldn’t do them any good he stopped. He stood there completely frozen until Jim put the mug down on the table.

“Oh my god,” Leonard muttered to himself. Then some sense came back to him and he looked at Jim. “Jim, what were you thinking,” he said, fully aware that he sounded rather hysterical.

Jim didn’t mind that Leonard was angry with him. In fact, from the expression on Jim’s face it was quite clear that he found the whole situation hilarious. “Bones,” he said laughing, almost doubling over. “Your eye is twitching.”  

“That’s because I’m angry,” Leonard said. “At _you_!”

Jim was rocking on his heels, trying to stifle his laugh and look innocent.  “’M fine.”

Leonard looked at Jim, still red as a beet and scowling. “If you die because of this, I’m not going to explain it to professor Pike.”   

Jim, still utterly unimpressed by Leonard’s anger, got a firm grip on Leonard’s hand. “Let’s go outside, grouch. Get some fresh air.” He tried to pull Leonard towards the door but Leonard didn’t need a lot of effort to stay right where he was.

He took back his hand and crossed his arms. “I’m not going outside and neither are you,” he said sternly. “It’s _snowing_.”

“I _know,_ ”Jim said, positively beaming. “It’s _snowing_.” He looked outside as if it were the first time he’d ever witnessed snow, and sighed. “Doesn’t that just make you so, _so_ happy, Bones?”

“Not really,” Leonard muttered in reply. “And I’m serious, Jim. We need to go to the hospital wing and get a bezoar in you before you explode, or something.”

Jim wasn’t listening anymore; he had opened the door of the greenhouse and walked outside with a brisk tread, as if he was going to take a leisurely stroll.

“Jim, come back,” Leonard yelled, but Jim was already out the door. “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Leonard pulled on his coat and grabbed Jim’s coat and scarf before following, making sure to close the door of the greenhouse before he left. “ _Don’t_ you walk away from me,” he yelled after Jim, but he was already too far away to catch up to. “I’m head boy!”

Jim was quick, but left a trail of footsteps in the otherwise pristine snow that Leonard could easily follow.  Jim had walked, or rather stumbled, all the way down the hill towards the Black Lake.

Halfway down Leonard could discern two snow angels on the ground; Jim was sitting in the second one as he watched over the lake. When he heard Leonard approach he turned around and smiled, even broader when Leonard shook his head at him disapprovingly.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jim asked.

“Yes, it’s very pretty, Jim,” Leonard answered, not sure whether he was talking about the snow, the angels or the lake.  “Now come here and put on your damn coat.”

It surprised Leonard how easily Jim came up to him and did as he was told. Then he moved back to his snow angels with the same silly smile on his face that was definitely an effect of the elixir.

Leonard, who had found a branch a bit uphill, pulled out his copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration from his abnormally deep coat pocket. Honestly, he’d rather had gone back inside, with or without Jim, but stopped at the thought of Jim spontaneously combusting by the lake-side the day before Christmas. So Leonard glanced up from his book occasionally to make sure he wasn’t doing just that.

Jim was busy creating an ice crystal halo for one of his snow angels and besides his cheeks becoming apple red because of the cold he seemed fine.

Somewhat reassured, Leonard continued reading about the Complications in Iguana Transformation with as much interest as he could muster up. He was about to reach the passage of _Iguana Iguana_ and _vera verto_ when he heard a loud splash. “Jim, leave the giant squid alone,” Leonard said without looking up from the book.

The sounds of splashing hadn’t stopped, and Leonard glanced up from his book expecting to witness a new stupid idea Jim had thought of. 

Only to see that Jim wasn’t there. “Jim!” he exclaimed and ran down the hill, dropping his book along the way.

Jim came up from the water with a gasp and reached for the lakeside. Leonard pulled him out of the water and Jim flopped to the ground breathing heavily.

Wasting no time Leonard hauled an arm under Jim’s shoulders and hoisted him up. “We need to get you inside,” he said.

Jim let Leonard lead him back to the castle, his teeth chattering.

These were days Leonard found the protective charms around Hogwarts incredibly impractical. He had managed to dry Jim’s clothes a little with a simple charm, but that wasn’t nearly enough to get the heat back to Jim’s body.

They had to walk all the way up to the fifth floor, which had the only non-house-restricted communal bathroom in the castle.

“ _Rubber Duck_.”

During the holidays Leonard had been the only one who’d used the prefect’s bathroom. One of the few perks to being prefect in the first place. They walked into the bathroom, past the stalls, and to the large pool-like tub in the middle of the room. There, Leonard let go of Jim and pulled off his coat and scarf, before discarding his own. Then Leonard kicked off his shoes and socks, ditched his sweater and rolled up his trousers and shirtsleeves. He walked over to the tap set with a peridot, and filled the tub with water that steamed excessively despite its lukewarm heat.

“Change into one of these,” Leonard told Jim nodding towards a pile of bathrobes in the corner of the room. “And don’t enter the water.”

Jim stripped down to his underwear and put on the cotton candy pink bathrobe on top of the pile, then he sat down by the edge of the large tub and sneezed. By then the water in the tub had created a steam that filled and heated up the entire room. Leonard sat down next to him.

While they waited for Jim to warm up the elixir began to wear off and to Leonard’s great relief the elixir hadn’t granted Jim any spontaneous combusting abilities; he just got an uncontrollable bout of the hiccups.

“How’re you feeling?” Leonard asked.

“Fine,” Jim said, he hiccupped again.

Leonard sighed. He leaned on his stretched arms as he dangled his feet in the lukewarm water of the bath. “Of all the irresponsible things I’ve seen you do, you really outdid yourself this time.”

“I didn’t _hic_ _jump_ into the lake if that’s _hic_ what you’re thinking,” Jim said, his voice tight. The cold plunge and the worn off elixir had made him considerably less giddy than before.

“Well, I reckon even you aren’t that stupid,” Leonard easily admitted. “But that doesn’t excuse you from doing just about everything that led up to it. Including drinking untested potions.”

“It wasn’t the potion and you know it,” Jim said, growing increasingly defensive.

“I _know_ no such thing,” Leonard rebuked. “And it still doesn’t explain why you seem so determined to get in trouble all of the time.”

“I don’t go _looking_ for trouble,” Jim said, completely exasperated. “I told you, oh, never mind.”

Jim stood up, stuffed his wand in the pocket of his bathrobe and gathered his clothes into a damp heap in his arms.

Leonard turned so he could watch Jim, surprised at Jim’s annoyance, he’d always assumed every piece of criticism was like water off a duck’s back to Jim. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my common room, see you at dinner,” Jim said, and he disappeared without giving Leonard a chance to utter a single word.

Leonard sighed and lay down on the heated marble floor of the bathroom. So much for a breather during the holidays; he felt exhausted. He looked over at the mermaid who was combing her hair without a care in the world and felt really jealous. ‘ _Must be nice’_ , he thought.

Deciding to apologize to Jim later, Leonard decided to take a bath so he could get ready for the Christmas dinner. He opened another water tap that gushed a litany of bubbles over the surface of the bathwater before he lowered himself in. He immersed himself in the water a couple of times, then washed his hair and face to take the scent of his brewing fiasco out. After about three lather and rinses he leaned over the edge of the bath with his elbows.

He watched the painting where the mermaid, pretending like she didn’t notice him, continued to comb her hair in long languid strokes of her fingers.

Leonard usually used the bathroom in the common room and found it far too tedious to walk all the way from the basement to the fifth floor just to take a shower, but Chapel had often declared him a madman for it. He always rolled his eyes when she did but understood where she was coming from.

The prefect’s bath was the only place a prefect or head boy or Quidditch captain could go without people yammering and complaining at them about matters they either had no influence over or no interest in. Here it was nice and quiet. The bubbles on the surface of the water were fizzing and popping, and Leonard who was still busy catching up on that pre-holiday lack of sleep felt himself drift in and out of consciousness. For a fleeting second he thought it was probably a bad idea to fall asleep in the tub because he could slip in and drown, but just as quickly as the thought had come it also drifted away again.

His head was slowly slipping from the crook of his arms, getting closer and closer to the water until he was rudely awakened from his stupor when he heard the door open again.

“Hn, what?” he asked to no one in particular, and then turned around.

Still wearing his bathrobe, Jim stood a little from the edge of the bath and was looking at Leonard.

“Jim,” Leonard said, surprised. He immediately glanced at the water but the suds were still so thick and high the water wasn’t even revealed, let alone everything else.

Jim seemed completely unapologetic  for his sudden second entry into the prefect’s bathroom which he now knew the password of. Leonard was going to have to change that later.

“I thought you were going to your common room?” Leonard asked. He looked at Jim and the clothes in his hands, either Leonard hadn’t been snoozing for nearly as long as he thought or Jim had wandered down the hallways of Hogwarts in his pink bathrobe for a bizarrely long amount of time.

“You’re not the first person to tell me I’m irresponsible,” Jim said out of the blue.

“What,” Leonard asked, genuinely puzzled by Jim’s sudden confession.

“It usually leads right up to the point where they allude to my father,” Jim continued. “And how little I take after him.”

Leonard looked at Jim, who was shifting his weight between his legs. His brows were furrowed but he wasn’t angry, he was frustrated more likely.

“Who says you ought to take after your father?” Leonard asked.

Jim shrugged. “Just about everyone,” he said. “They’re disappointed I’m not there to continue his legacy.”  

“I’m sorry they feel that way,” Leonard grumbled, somewhat annoyed himself but not at Jim. “But you know Jim, I like you just the way you are.” Any other moment Leonard would have wondered whether it was the right thing to say to Jim, who was as precocious and cheeky as they came, but right now he wanted the kid to know at least that much.

Jim stared at him and stayed completely silent.

Leonard grinned, not realizing there were words that could even render the likes of Jim Kirk speechless. “Cat got your tongue, Kirk?”

“No,” Jim blurted out. He looked down and began picking strings of lint from his bathrobe. “It’s just that…no one ever said that to me before.”

“Well, I meant it. So you can stop pouting,” Leonard teased.

“I wasn’t pouting,” Jim said with scowl but when he saw the lopsided grin on Leonard’s face his expression softened.

“So, am I forgiven?” Leonard asked with a rueful smile.

Jim let out a breath, like he was letting tension go and then gave Leonard a meek smile in return. “Yeah, we’re cool.” He got a better grip on the clothes in his hands and then turned to leave again. “See you at dinner.”

After Jim left, Leonard dozed off again. Though he hadn’t slept long, it was long enough for him to have to hurry to his common room afterwards, get dressed and go to the Great Hall as quickly as possible. When he arrived most of the students and teachers still at Hogwarts were already there, gathered around a single table in the middle of the room. The Great Hall was extravagantly decorated, even more so than just a couple of hours before during breakfast. The twelve Christmas trees lit up the entire room and impressive wreaths hung on the walls.

Less necessary in Leonard’s opinion was the snow, slowly falling from the ceiling.

“Glad you could join us, Leonard,” headmaster Archer said to him. He was sitting at the other end of the table and was speaking to professor Marcus. His prized beagle lying next to him on the ground, snoring loudly.

“Thank you, sir,” Leonard said politely.

He muttered some more holiday greetings and then sat at the only empty chair at the beginning of the table, next to Christopher Pike and opposite Jim Kirk.

Christopher Pike was wearing a red and green plaid tuxedo vest with matching bow tie for the occasion. Kirk was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, muggle clothing to the letter. When he saw Leonard he smiled, and Leonard easily reciprocated.

Dinner had already been served, and Leonard helped himself to some mashed potatoes and roast turkey. He looked over at Jim, who had filled his plate with just about everything.

“The ham is really good, Bones,” Jim said, as he poured himself a glass of apple cider.

“Yeah,” Leonard said, trying to keep the grimace from his face while Jim poured cranberry sauce all over his food. “I’ll try that later.”

Pike glanced at Jim’s plate too, his expression incredulous but otherwise unreadable.

They ate their food while speaking civilly with each other. Pike spent most of his time speaking to their History of Magic teacher professor Tucker, who wanted to know all about the boggart that had been hiding in the library.

Jim and Leonard didn’t talk much, but mostly listened in on the teacher’s conversations. Leonard in particular had never hear the teachers speak to each other so freely.

“A third year discovered it,” Pike was explaining. “Screamed his lungs out when a clown’s head popped out of one of the card cabinets.”

By the time dessert appeared on the table, professor Pike had diverted his attention away from the other teachers and more towards Jim. Jim had the utmost respect for Pike, more than he had for any other teacher. He beamed proudly when Pike commended him on his last essay on manticores, and was now listening to Pike reprimanding him on his lack of results in other classes with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“If only you put half the effort into Herbology as you do in my class or Numerology,” Pike said sternly. “I know you can do better, Jim.”

“It’s not like I’m not trying. It’s just--” Jim looked over to where professor Phlox was sitting but he was having an animated discussion about mulch with professor Eggleton. Eggleton didn’t seem thrilled about it either. “It’s boring _and_ difficult,” Jim concluded in a low voice.

“Nonsense,” Pike said dismissively. “You can get McCoy to help you. Didn’t you have an Exceeds Expectations on your Herbology O.W.L.S last year?”

“An Outstanding, sir,” Leonard replied impassively.  “But I’m not much of a tutor, to be honest.”

“Give yourself more credit, McCoy,” Pike said, lips curled in a smile and there was a look in his eyes that Leonard could only perceive as mischievous, teacher or not. “I think you handled that thing with Tomlinson perfectly. Excellent teaching in my opinion even if it was a little unorthodox.”

Leonard shoulders stiffened, and Jim, who had suddenly got an interest in their conversation stopped chewing for a second.

“Relax,” Pike said with a chuckle. “I haven’t told his parents, or professor Marcus for that matter.”

Leonard opened his mouth to say something, but Pike’s attention shifted back to professor Tucker, who apparently had a wonderful joke about a Cornish pixie walking into a bar.

Jim leaned forward and asked in a whisper. “What did you do, Bones?”

“I’ll tell ya later,” Leonard muttered back.

After a long dinner, where Leonard had eaten far too much but not nearly as much as Jim, Leonard went back to the Hufflepuff common room. Jim was still in the Great Hall, talking to professor Pike, eating dessert.  

Deciding to cut himself some slack for the evening he decided not to study and went straight to the sleeping dorms instead, where he crawled into bed with a groan, swore to himself that he would never eat again, and then drifted off into a deep sleep.

When he woke up the next morning he felt well rested and content. He had almost forgotten what day it was, until he saw the heap of Christmas presents at the foot of his bed.

He sat down and opened them. Most were from his dad and grandparents. His grandma had knitted him a sweater featuring a large penguin, and they had sent a huge box of sweets that Leonard couldn’t even finish in a year if he tried. His dad had been a little less excessive and had sent him a self-inking quill and a copy of Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. Enclosed with the presents was a letter and a picture of the three of them, wearing matching sweaters and each holding a glass of whiskey. They toasted to him with a smile, and at the back of the picture he could see the Christmas tree, still looking as hideous as ever. He really did miss them.

His other gift was from Christine Chapel. A silver fob chain for the pocket watch he’d received when he came of age. She had also included a photo, from her and her family together in the mountains surrounded by snow. On the back of the photo she had scribbled a small note. “Merry Christmas, Leo. Don’t work too hard while I’m away. Love, Christine.”

Leonard carefully put his gifts away, got dressed in his new sweater, stuffed his pockets with candy and then went down for breakfast.

Like always Jim was already down before him but he didn’t greet Leonard or even notice him like he usually did. He was nose deep and deeply absorbed in a book called A New Theory of Numerology, and his chockfull plate of food was still untouched.

Leonard emptied both his pockets on the table, and the rumbling sound of dozens of Fizzy Wizzys and Shock-o-Choc’s hitting the table caught Jim’s attention.

“Merry Christmas,” Leonard said.

Jim looked up from his book at Leonard. “Merry Christmas,” he said with easily more excitement than Leonard. He grabbed the ends of his pullover and pulled it slightly down.

 “Thanks for the sweater,” Jim said with a grin. “I love it.”

“No problem, kid.” Leonard said. “Wear it.”

Jim smiled, beamed even, and Leonard was kind of glad he did. He had been knitting every night during hallway patrol for the last couple of weeks, and had created just about everything, from mittens to tea cosies. He was half brooding over whether it was even appropriate to knit Jim anything at all when he’d subconsciously already found himself a carmine red yarn that he really liked. In the end he just went ahead and made it.

“Did your grandparents send you candy?” Jim asked, as he unwrapped a Shock-o-Choc.

“I think they cleared the whole inventory,” Leonard said shaking his head. “So help yourself, plenty more where that came from.”

Leonard sat down opposite Jim, and grabbed a plate of his own. They ate breakfast together like always, and Jim spent almost an hour talking about the amazing wonders of numerology and the book he had received from his brother. The remainder of that day they spent doing not much of anything, something Leonard could brag about to Chapel later. He would catch up on his studying later.

He made true on his promise the next day and the days after that. Leonard spent the remainder of the week cropped up in the library in the draftiest corner he could find. It was so cold that he had to wrap himself in his coat and scarf just to keep warm, but he wasn’t falling asleep anymore and thus got a lot more done, even if it did mess with his mood.

Jim left him alone most of the time, and had preoccupied himself with other things, though what these things were Leonard hadn’t a clue. Jim was an avid reader but he preferred other places than the library to read, and there were days when he was practicing at the Quidditch pitch.

Leonard didn’t ask whenever they saw each other during breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Though Leonard grew increasingly curious (and suspicious) when he noticed Jim’s lack of boredom.

New Year’s Eve was the first time when Jim accompanied Leonard to the library after dinner. He sat with him by one of the drafty window, wearing both the scarf and the sweater Leonard had given to him. He was glancing at a book about broomsticks, the pages itself so filled with pictures of flying men and women zigzagging up and down the page, it made Leonard dizzy just seeing it in his peripherals. Jim tried his best not to disturb Leonard, and besides the occasional yawn, stayed perfectly quiet while he sat there.

That was, until the clock chimed 11:30, when Jim slammed his book shut and stood up. “Finally,” he said, stretching himself out. He took the book Leonard was reading from and gave it similar treatment, resulting in an angry glance from Leonard.

“What?” Jim asked innocently. “Only half an hour left till midnight.”

“It takes five minutes to go downstairs, Jim,” Leonard said. He tried to make another grab for his book but Jim danced out of his grasp.

“That’s not where we’re going, Bones,” Jim said with a grin.

Leonard frowned. “What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

“Do you trust me, Bones?”

Now Leonard was really suspicious. “…define ‘trust’.”  

It took some pulling and edging on from Jim but Leonard let himself be dragged up flight of stairs after flight of stairs, and stopped asking where they were going about half-way through when he decided he was better off saving his breath. They were climbing one of the many towers of Hogwarts, but not one Leonard had ever taken the time to explore. Well, not that he explored much of anything during his time at the castle but having been a prefect for years he’d seen more corridors than most students while he was busy patrolling them at night.

They stopped ascending when they simply couldn’t go any further, a wooden door in their way. Leonard tried to open it. “It’s locked,” he concluded quickly.  

Jim rolled his eyes. He took the wand from his back pocket and aimed at the keyhole. “ _Alohomora_.” The door opened with a soft click and Jim looked at Leonard with a smirk.

“I meant it’s probably locked for a reason,” Leonard said impatiently, but like Leonard was starting to get used to, Jim was only half-listening and walking out of the door. Once outside, Leonard could see just how far they’d been climbing. They were in the back of the castle, but high enough to see a part of the old courtyard as well as most of the black lake, and the expanse of the forbidden forest behind it. It was an impressive sight.

“Cool, isn’t it?” Jim said, as he glanced at the view in front of him with a satisfied expression on his face.

“More like freezing,” Leonard said, his breath clouding while he spoke. There was no snow anymore but it was still well below freezing temperature.

“Right, almost forgot,” Jim said. He pulled a rather thick looking red handkerchief from his pocket and put it on the ground. “ _Engorgio_.” The handkerchief, now obviously a wool blanket, most likely from the Gryffindor common room grew on the ground, a little too big because it was overstretching at some of the seams. “Ta dah.”

Leonard shook his head at Jim but the effect was mostly lost by the smirk on his face. He sat down on the ground and threw the blanket around him, making sure to make enough room for Jim, who was still looking around.

“This is the best view in the entire castle,” Jim said. He turned to Leonard. “Believe me, I checked.”

“Oh, I believe you alright,” Leonard said. He shifted a little when Jim sat next to him. Where Jim had more than enough room and blanket, he still sat down so close to Leonard that they were shoulder to shoulders, his knee resting on Leonard’s thigh. Leonard’s heart skipped a beat despite itself, he shifted again to gain a little more space between them and hoped Jim hadn’t noticed. From Jim’s lack of reaction he assumed he didn’t.

“I used to fly all the way around the castle up to the edges of the lake after Quidditch practice.” Jim pointed towards the Black Lake. “And sometimes I flew around Gryffindor tower just to make the other first year’s jealous.”  

Leonard shook his head, years ago he’d heard about the first year who managed to get into the Quidditch team. He only now realized it was Jim they were talking about. “I still think it’s irresponsible,” he said. “Letting an eleven year old child fly on his own like that.”

Jim raised an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” Leonard asked.

“How old do you think I am, Bones?”

“You’re a fourth year.” Leonard said a little unsure.

Jim rolled his eyes. “I know that. How _old_.”

“Thirteen, fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” Jim corrected. “Which means I was thirteen years old when I became seeker. So I’m obviously not thirteen now.”

“No,” Leonard said. “Because you’re fifteen.”

“Exactly.”

The bells in the clock tower started ringing, and after the twelfth chime fireworks appeared all around them. Over the castle, and over the Great Lake too. It was the first time Leonard ever saw the fireworks at Hogwarts during New Year’s Eve, but what a sight it was. Hundreds of bright flames that formed dragons, hippogriffs and other magical creatures, until the lights dissipated in the night sky like fireflies.

“Happy New Year, Bones,” Jim said, above the whistling and bangs of the fireworks.

“You too, kid,” Leonard replied.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, when I said the next chapter would take a while. I didn't actually mean this long. In the future though it is still easier to subscribe.


	6. January

**> >>>6<<<<**

Leonard was hot and his right arm was gradually falling asleep. Shoving the single person sofa so close to the fireplace had, in hindsight, been a bad idea. First, because it was no longer freezing outside and he really wasn’t that cold anymore. Secondly, because he was comfortable, and whenever he found a comfortable place to sit Christine Chapel usually found it within her right to join him, space or not. She had cropped herself on his lap, feet between his outer thigh and the couch, and her back against his chest. Her long hair tickled Leonard’s neck when she turned from Achievements in Charming, the book Leonard was revising from, yawned and leaned into the crook of Leonard’s neck.

Leonard gently shrugged his shoulder to shove her away. “I’m not part of the furniture,” he said when Christine gave him a reproachful look.

She sat up with a huff and turned sideways so she could face Leonard. “You’re studying too much, Leo,” she said, her voice calm but her expression still a little annoyed. “And they’re not going to ask us to do a bird-conjuring spell during our N.E.W.T.S.,” she added matter-of-factly.

Leonard raised an eyebrow. “And who, pray tell, gave you this information?”

“Liz did,” Chapel said, with a tone so airy she must have guessed Leonard’s reaction.

Leonard snorted at the mention of Elizabeth Dehner who, together with Mitchell, had gained the reputation of _oracle extraordinaire_ in the last couple of weeks. “Oh, well that settles it then,” he said, and closed the book with an exaggerated flourish. “It is, after all, written in the _stars_.”

Chapel pinched him in the neck, hard. “Stop being so unpleasant,” she said. “Or I’m leaving.”

Leonard smirked and opened his mouth to say something but Chapel, who knew Leonard well enough, cut him off before he could get any more words out.

“Speaking of unpleasant,” she started and without a single warning Chapel pinched him again, this time on the other side of his neck.

“ _Ow_ , Christine what the hell?” he exclaimed, flicking her hand away.

“You made him a sweater,” she said; as if that was all the explanation she needed to give.

“Who?” Leonard asked. Chapel held her thumb and index finger up like pincers. “Okay, okay,” Leonard said, holding Chapel’s wrist to keep her at arm’s length. “But why am I being punished for it?”

Chapel rolled her eyes. “Because, like _always_ , I had to hear it from someone else,” she answered impatiently. “Liz heard it from Mitchell who overheard Gaila talking to Jim after Quidditch practice.”

Leonard stared at Chapel. “You’re like a spy,” he said. “Have you considered a career at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?”

Chapel waived her hand dismissively. “Don’t change the subject,” she said. “And start telling me about what happened while I was gone.”

Leonard sighed. “I studied, it was snowing, I studied some more. Did I mention it was snowing?”  

“Leo!”

Leonard let out a short exasperated laugh. “There’s nothing to tell because _nothing_ happened.”

“Then why did you change the password to the prefects’ bathroom?” Chapel said, her eyes intent.

“Because I _can_ ,” Leonard said, attempting to sound just as matter-of-fact as Chapel. He pointed to the pin on his sweater. “I’m head boy, remember?”

Chapel scowled at Leonard. “You look me straight in the eyes, McCoy, and tell me nothing changed between you and Jim.”

Leonard shook his head and opened his book again, holding it so close to his nose that Chapel couldn’t even catch a glimpse of his expression. Chapel had this strange tendency to determine what he was thinking, sometimes even before _he_ knew.

As for Jim, well, _something_ had changed. Then again…perhaps it was just his lack of sleep, his work as head boy and the hospital wing and all that damn studying why he felt so funny. Like he was about to come down with the flu.

The other day he’d spent hours in the Great Hall just staring blankly at the pages of his Astronomy book while actually listening in on Jim talking to Rasmussen, the resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower. Not even having an interest in Rasmussen’s adventures as a wizard but fascinated by Jim’s interest in the subject. Which made _no_ sense.

Maybe it was indigestion.

Whatever it was, Leonard treated it like an itch. One that he was very reluctant to scratch. Which was why he wasn’t ready to admit anything, _ever_. He had opted for self-denial, which was very comfortable thank you very much.

“Nothing happened between Jim and me,” Leonard said, his voice affectedly neutral, his nose still deep in the book. By the long pause he could tell Chapel wasn’t buying it; unlike Leonard she didn’t believe in self-denial and when she had an itch she sure as hell scratched it.

“You’re a terrible liar, Leo,” she said.

Leonard bit his cheek to keep his expression as stoic as he possibly could, then he closed his book and put it down. “Am I?” he asked rhetorically, ending the conversation. He stood up. “I’m going to have breakfast,” he said, his pause a silent invitation to Chapel to join him. She still gave him a look but took the invitation by standing up and holding her hand out for him to grab.

“This isn’t the last time we’re going to talk about this,” she said, and led the way.

When they entered the Great Hall, Chapel immediately spotted Elizabeth Dehner who waved her over to the Gryffindor table. It was late, and most students had already eaten, so there was more than enough space to sit. The latecomers had mostly flocked towards the Gryffindor table, and when Leonard approached, he realized why.

Gaila sat perched on the bench, staring at Gary Mitchell while impatiently swinging her legs. Gary Mitchell was examining an empty teacup with great concentration. He turned it to the left and the right, twisted it a little, and Leonard had to do everything in his power not to roll his eyes and groan. Jim was both way ahead of him and had considerably less self-restraint because the exasperated sound he made was more than enough for the both of them.  

“I can’t believe you actually trust this nonsense, Gail,” he said, stirring his spoon through his bowl of  milk and cereal. “A bunch of tea leafs aren’t going to decide how today’s Quidditch match is going to play out. _You_ decide.” 

Gaila who was completely focused on Mitchell didn’t even seem to hear Jim, but Mitchell did. “Be quiet,” he said.

Jim had no intention to be quiet; he waved his spoon around while he continued talking. “You know, Carol Marcus had to determine my horoscope during our last divination class and she said…well I’m not sure what she said _exactly_ I wasn’t paying that much attention. It was something about Pluto making a sharp angle something something. _Anyway_ , long story short: there’s supposed to be some kind of _pain_ or _peril_ in my near future. She wasn’t even sure, it could mean I get hit by a train, or a bus or even a— _ow_!”

Without looking up from his cup, Mitchell gave Jim a hard whack at the back of his head.

“There, prophecy fulfilled,” Mitchell said impassively. “Now shut up.”

Jim rubbed the back of his head and scowled at Gary before looking at Leonard who couldn’t help but chuckle at the entire display.

Leonard managed to smirk ruefully when he saw the expression on Jim’s face.

“I see a buckle,” Mitchell said, squinting as he turned the cup clockwise again. “And that’s definitely a bell,” he paused. “No, wait, it’s a fish,” he concluded determinedly.

Mitchell was still looking at the cup, and the students around him were all waiting with anticipation. All the students except for Leonard and Jim, who were communicating with each other how ridiculous they found it all by all-knowing glances and ill-natured snickers from Jim’s part while Leonard drank the cup of tea he poured himself while shaking his head.

“Is that good?” Gaila asked.

“There are some disappointments ahead,” Mitchell said. Gaila’s face fell. “But the fish symbolizes great fortune in all your pursuits, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

He handed the cup back to Gaila who was smiling, her cheeks red from delight. Mitchell stretched himself after that and yawned. “Anyone else?” he asked, but from the looks of it he’d done just about everyone at the table. “Christine?” Mitchell asked, looking at Chapel.

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” Chapel said and she tilted her cup towards Mitchell to show him. “But you can do Leonard’s,” she added with a smile.

Leonard glanced from the empty cup he had placed in front of him to Mitchell. “That’s all right,” he said, making a grab for it, but Mitchell’s draw was quick and he grabbed hold of the cup first. Completely ignoring the dagger looking glare Leonard was giving him Mitchell turned his attention to the tea again. Leonard didn’t know a whole lot about divination but was still surprised when Mitchell only looked at the cup for a second before he spoke.

“It’s a mushroom with a dove in the corner,” he said. “There will be progress in your relationships, but it will end in confrontation and separation.”

“Gee, _thanks_ Gary,” Leonard said with his smile and voice dripping with sarcasm. “That sounds terrific.”

Mitchell just shrugged and handed the cup back to Leonard. “Hey, I’m just the messenger.”

“That’s usually the one they kill,” Leonard replied. He grabbed the teapot and was about to pour himself another cup of tea when Chapel let out a gasp.

“No!” she said, startling Leonard so much he spilled tea next to the cup.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

Before Chapel could explain Gaila did. “You can’t _drink_ tea from a tasseomancy cup, Leonard,” she said. “It’s bad luck.”

The words “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Leonard muttered under his breath was noticeable enough, but he obediently put his cup back down and poured himself some coffee in a clean mug. “Happy?”

Chapel bit the side of her lip nervously while she spoke. “Well,” she said. “I don’t know if you need any more bad luck than you’re having now.” She turned to Dehner who had been watching the entire scene unfold with much interest. “Perhaps with a good luck charm. Or two.”

This time it was Jim who interrupted with a loud scoff. “Please,” he said scathingly. “Bones doesn’t need that, he’s _fine_.” He pointed at Leonard as proof. “Nothing bad is going to happen to him.”

“But what if it does?” Gaila asked. “Better safe than sorry right?”

“I’d appreciate it if you people talked like I’m actually sitting at this table,” Leonard said, buttering some toast for himself. “And Jim’s right. I don’t need a good luck charm.”

Chapel looked positively hurt at Leonard’s reaction. “Then what will you do if you get a bout of bad luck?” she asked reprovingly.

Leonard shrugged. “I’ll scare it away with my fervent skepticism,” he said, and before Chapel could interrupt he quickly added. “So what time is that Quidditch game going to start?”

Jim raised his eyebrows. “Are you going?” he asked.

Leonard nodded towards Chapel. “She’s making me,” he explained.

Jim whose eyebrows hadn’t dropped, looked at Leonard a beat longer and then gave Chapel the same expression.

“I told him that he couldn’t leave Hogwarts without going to at least a single game,” Chapel answered. “Which is why he’s going to the Ravenclaw-Slytherin match, he’s going to wear blue to support the Ravenclaw team, and he’s going to _like_ it. I’m giving him the whole Quidditch experience.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonard rolled his eyes.

Jim had crossed his arms. “Oh,” he said tritely. “That’s nice.”

The sudden lack of enthusiasm wasn’t lost on Leonard. He looked at Jim, who had grabbed a piece of dry toast and was nibbling at it absent mindedly, while the other talked excitedly about that afternoon’s game.

“Where are you going to sit?” Mitchell asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Chapel replied, she looked at Dehner. “Liz?”

They ended up sitting next to the Ravenclaw goals, on the front row. Chapel was chatting away next to Elizabeth Dehner and Leonard, who was now wearing a blue sweater, stood next to her. The particular spot they were standing happened to be the most boisterous one, with the Gryffindor team, led by Gary Mitchell standing just a row behind them. Most of them had kept their own red colors but some, like Hikaru Sulu and Jim had bedecked themselves in blue, from head to toe, yowling excitedly when the teams came on the field, led by their team captains.

Even that high up Leonard could easily determine Nyota Uhura and Spock who led their teams on the pitch. Meanwhile the commentator’s microphone turned on with a high pitch.

Montgomery Scott’s voice was immediately recognizable as he easily named the players on the field, and, surprisingly the broomsticks they were flying.

“ _Nyota Uhura, on a Cleansweep Eleven. What a beauty that is. I know some of you may regard it an outdated little thing, but let me tell you, when you treat her right a Cleansweep is just as reliable as those fancy Nimbus models. In fact I was talking to Gryffindor Captain Gary Mitchell the other day, actually we had a wee bit of an altercation, but I told him that the Nimbus is actually quite fickle if you—”_

Leonard, who had a clear view of Scott in the commentator box, saw how the head of his house, professor Barrett, was trying to make a grab for the microphone which was more than enough of a threat to get Scott back on track.

_“But who cares about that really,”_ he said quickly. _“Because the game is on and Slytherin has the Quaffle. M’Benga heads straight for the goal, flying a Nimbus 2001, first edition, notthatitmatters, but he’s intercepted by a mean hit from a Bludger. Well done MacPherson, that Moontrimmer always manages to surprise me. You know last month’s Seeker Weekly had an article about—”_

The comments halted for a second while Barrett seemed to call Scott out with a couple of well-chosen words just out of the microphone’s reach. Then the crowd cheered.

“ _That’s 10-0 for Ravenclaw,”_ Montgomery Scott announced, just in time. Leonard, who had found the happenings in the commentator box a lot more exciting than the game, had missed the goal altogether. Though with professor Barrett’s irritation and the sheer speed of Quidditch, Scott’s attention was now completely on the game, which meant that Leonard had no choice but to watch as well.

The Quaffle flew from player to player with lighting speed, fast enough to see it but still too quickly to see who was holding what and at what time. The teams were well matched, and it took well over fifteen minutes before the Slytherins finally managed to even the score.

An hour later it was 30-60 for Slytherin. The two seekers, Spock and Uhura, were still circling the pitch like hawks, Uhura about mid-field and Spock in one of the far ends, his face as expressionless as always.

Leonard sighed and crossed his arms. He turned towards Mitchell who was surprisingly lackluster considering he was watching what Leonard always thought he claimed was his ‘favorite game in the world’.

“So how long until they catch that thing,” Leonard asked.

Mitchell shrugged. “Usually within an hour or so,” he said, and thoughtfully scratched the back of his neck. “But you can’t tell really. Could be _days_ in theory. Actually, I think the record is two months…or was it four?”

“Three months,” Jim said, standing next to Mitchell and not even once taking his eyes off the game. “But that’s very unlikely. The teachers would probably call it quits in a day or two. Perhaps a week if Pike had any say in it. Anyway, the longest I ever looked for it was a little over five hours, and that was in the pouring rain.”

Leonard sat down on the chair and decided to get comfortable at least.

Another hour passed, the score was 60 -100 for Slytherin and the Snitch was still nowhere to be seen. Leonard was still in his chair, leaning on his elbow and trying desperately not to fall asleep. The crowd which had been so enthusiastic just a few hours ago was growing more and more timid by the minute and even Jim and Sulu, who had been cheering loudest of all were now quiet behind him, though still intently watching the game.

Then, just about the moment when Leonard felt himself dozing off, Chapel gasped, startling him awake.

“Spock’s diving!” she said.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed, the sounds of cheering and howling rose up from the crowd again and all the students seemed to try to lean closer to the pitch trying to get a good look at the pursuit that followed, while Montgomery Scott commentated the entire pursuit to the detail whilst keeping tabs on both the position of the Quaffle, the two Bludgers and all the broomsticks with their less important players. Not that Leonard was listening to any of that, he was also staring over the edge of the tribune, though with a lot less enthusiasm than everyone else.

Spock, who had ducked first, was now making a circle around the pitch while Uhura closely followed. From far away it seemed like they were just making a duck for no reason at all until a flash of gold reflected in Leonard’s eyes, the Snitch.

Whatever broom Spock was flying (Leonard had only been listening to half of Scott’s commentary) it was definitely faster than Uhura’s. But what Uhura lacked in speed she made up with certain skill that even Leonard couldn’t help but notice. She flew far lower and tighter to the broom, and maneuvered past the Bludgers flying her way with such precision that she was able to catch up to Spock, who took a lot less risk in his maneuvers.

One second Spock was still in the lead, the next second they were neck-and-neck. Then a misaimed Bludger flew at the both of them.

Spock wisely evaded by pulling up a bit, losing a bit of his momentum but steering clear from harm. Uhura wasn’t moving an inch from her course, her arm already outstretched, ready to grab the Snitch. The crowd collectively held their breath because it seemed like Uhura was prepared to receive a direct hit from the Bludger for the sake of winning the game. Then, at the very last second she turned upside down on her broom, the Bludger missing her within a hair's breadth. It was just the advantage she needed, her hands closed and the crowd roared.

_“She’s got the Snitch!”_ Scott yelled through the microphone enthusiastically. _“She’s got it. What a gal that is, what a catch, and that Cleansweep…”_

Professor Barrett was far too busy celebrating to comment on Scott’s digressing chatter. Leonard also didn’t really pay attention, instead he was watching how the entire Ravenclaw team ran to their captain and hoisted her up while she held the Snitch up like a trophy.

Most of the students in the tribune were also clambering down, and Leonard joined Chapel down to the pitch to congratulate Uhura.

It was almost impossible to make a way through the boisterous crowd of Ravenclaws and Mitchell was shamelessly using his title as prefect to make way for himself in order to get to the center of the celebrations. Uhura was still in the middle, though she was back with both feet on the ground. Her hair, usually so neat, was sticking out from every angle and she was beaming.

Mitchell’s face was a stark contrast, and he walked up to Uhura with a deep frown on his face. “Nyota, that was the best piece of flying I’ve seen all year,” he said with an indecipherable tone to his voice. Leonard wasn’t sure whether he was upset, in awe, or both, but his staring was starting to linger for a bit too long. Dehner had to pull him away by his wrist to make room for anyone else to reach Uhura, who still couldn’t stop smiling.

They stayed on the field for a while until the crowd of mostly Ravenclaws started to spread out and gradually made their way back to the castle. There they would most likely continue their little after-party, something Leonard was actually familiar with, though he’d never joined in on the occasions. He wasn’t planning to join in this time either.

When they got to the courtyard he slipped away quietly through the crowd making sure that Chapel, who was talking to some other students, didn’t notice. He safely made it back to the Hufflepuff common room where he found his favorite chair unoccupied and right where he left it.

He grabbed his Charms book, sat down near the comfortable fire, and had read as little as a sentence when he thought of closing his eyes just for a second.

He woke up, almost slipping out of his chair in surprise, when he heard an ear deafening bang. The blue smoke surrounding him dissipated slowly, until he could see Chapel in front of him with the remnants of a leftover Christmas cracker in her hand.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she asked. She tried to keep her expression as concerned as she could but the laughter still bubbled up from her when she saw the expression on Leonard’s face.

Leonard narrowed his eyes at her, while she picked up the Charms book he had dropped to the floor and placed the silver sequined fedora hat she’d just received on Leonard’s head.

“What time is it?” Leonard asked. He adjusted his hat so that it wasn’t covering his eyes.

Chapel sat down on the armrest of the chair. “You can still catch dinner if you hurry,” she replied.

Leonard stood up from the chair and gave Chapel a shove so that she lost her balance and fell back into the seat of the chair. She giggled and held her hand outright for her fedora, which Leonard placed on her head as well as he could before he left.

In the Great Hall he had a solitary dinner that mostly consisted of dessert. Then he went to the Prefect’s bathroom and took a nice long bath where he would’ve stayed for hours if Hikaru Sulu hadn’t entered and started asking him all about next week’s hall monitoring schedule. Then, to make matters worse, Gary Mitchell and Montgomery Scott entered, having a heated discussion about Quidditch, of all things. A discussion that Sulu eagerly joined.

He decided he couldn’t take it anymore when they began asking for _his_ opinion and quickly lied about some Transfiguration essay that was still due so he could make his way back to the basement, feeling a little less relaxed than he was hoping to be.

He was ascending the stairs when he saw Jim walking the opposite direction.

“Jim,” he called out. “Where are you going?”

Jim, who hadn’t noticed Leonard, looked like he’d been caught red-handed. “Bones,” he said, surprised. “I was…going to my common room.”

Leonard raised his eyebrow. “On _this_ side of the castle?”

Jim shrugged. “Sure, why the hell not.”

“Right.” Leonard pursed his lips and decided to play along. “I’ll join you.”

Jim gave Leonard a good natured smile. “Oh, you really don’t –,”

“I insist.”

Jim rolled his eyes up in annoyance. “Fine.”

They walked up the stairs quietly, Leonard glancing at Jim occasionally trying to find out what he was up to. On the seventh floor, Jim took a left, away from Gryffindor tower.

“I thought you were going to your common room,” Leonard asked, closely following.

“I changed my mind,” Jim replied, and he picked up his pace.  

Leonard followed Jim until they walked past the troll tapestry, where Leonard grabbed the hem of Jim’s shirt to make him stop. “Jim, students aren’t allowed in school halls after curfew,” he said impatiently. “At least not without a chaperone.”

“You’re my chaperone, _Head Boy_ ,” Jim said, locking his arm around Leonard’s and pulling him along. “Now come on.”

Leonard followed, still completely confused. “Now we’re just walking back and forth.”

Jim smirked. “I know.”

Jim turned them around and they walked past the tapestry one more time, then he abruptly stopped. Leonard looked at the ballet dancing trolls with a frown. “Is something supposed to happen now?”

“It already did,” Jim said and he impatiently pulled Leonard to the other side of the corridor where a door, that definitely wasn’t there just a moment ago, had appeared.

Before Leonard could ask anything, Jim opened the door and led him inside. The room they were standing in was extremely big and filled with…stuff. There was truly no better explanation for it, though, judging by the eclectic and bountiful nature of said stuff, it was most likely _garbage_.

“What do you think?” Jim asked with a smile.

Leonard side-eyed Jim. “I think you found the castle’s junk closet.” He took another gander at the room, his eyes resting on an enormous stuffed troll. “Or worse.”

Jim took an assessing look at Leonard. “You truly have no sense of adventure, do you?”

Leonard snorted. “If this is your idea of adventure, then no.” He turned back towards the door, pulling Jim with him. “And now I’m taking you back to Gryffindor tower.”

“Wait,” Jim said, counterweighting Leonard. “Just wait a second.”   

Leonard sighed but still let himself be pulled away again, past heaps of books that looked like they were about to topple over and bury them alive, and bottles filled with liquids of dubious origin. Two-third of the objects they passed seemed to come straight from Knockturn Alley, the remaining third of objects looked so extremely harmless that they made Leonard even more distrustful.

Jim led them further into the room or rather hall, as it was much larger than Leonard ever deemed possible. Many disorientating loops and turns later they arrived at a far end of it.

Someone, presumably Jim, had made a little make-shift living room. It had a cracked leather two-seater, a rather musky suede recliner, a worn down carpet and a lamp with its shade decorated with a single shrunken head.

“Please tell me you don’t actually spend time in this place,” Leonard asked, leering at Jim.

Jim sat down on the suede recliner with his legs propped up. “Am I not allowed?”

“Not after curfew, no.”

“Right,” Jim said with a smirk. “Well, then I’ll just have to trust you won’t rat on me.”

Leonard sighed again, still stood a well-measured distance from Jim’s nook and crossed his arms. “Does it look like I have time for this, Jim,” he said exasperatedly. “I have things to do, I don’t know if you noticed but I’m –,”

“Head Boy,” Jim finished for him. “You sure say that a lot, Bones.” He made himself comfortable in his recliner. “Anyway, I thought you’d like this place.”

“A dumpster,” Leonard asked.

“A place where people can’t find you,” Jim corrected. “So they can’t ask you inane questions, complain to you, or bother you in any way at all.”  

Leonard had subconsciously uncrossed his arms. The thought did seem tempting, even more so now that the prefect’s bathroom wasn’t even safe anymore. He was still leering at Jim but sat down on the cracked leather sofa. “One hour,” he said sternly. “Then you’re off to bed.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jim said with a triumphant smile.

The hour passed in an instant. Leonard listened while Jim talked about just about everything but Quidditch, which Leonard figured was for his sake. Jim told in great detail how he had _accidentally_ but not _regrettably_ torched his stepfather’s car when he was a kid and Leonard couldn’t help but laugh at the strange exploits of the not-quite-muggle Jim Kirk. He asked all about the muggle contraptions he’d never heard about but Jim mentioned idly, as if they were the most common objects in the world.

An hour and a half passed before Leonard stood up and thought it was time to call it a night. Jim led the both of them out of the room without protest until they were back in the, now dark, hallways of the castle. 

Leonard illuminated the end of his wand with a gentle wand-lighting charm, and they made their way to the Gryffindor Tower.

“Did you have fun watching the Quidditch game?” Jim asked as they were walking.

“Sure,” Leonard said inattentively. “Though it took a bit too long for my taste.”  

Jim didn’t reply for a second, and began to walk a little slower. “To be honest, I was pretty jealous when Christine said you two were going to watch Ravenclaw play,” he said. “I mean, you’ve never been to one of _my_ games.”

Leonard kept walking and swallowed before he replied with his voice level and low. “That’s because you never asked me to go to one of your games, Jim.”

“Well, yeah, but—” Jim stopped walking, they were by the stairs, and he was looking down into it as if he could actually see something in that black abyss. “I was pretty sure you’d say no, so –”

“I would’ve said yes,” Leonard said too quickly, standing still and subconsciously lowering his wand.

“Oh,” Jim said, and he paused and put his hands in his pockets and stared at Leonard, his gaze going from the illuminated wand to his face.

He shifted the weight between his feet but didn’t move. Opened his mouth slightly and closed it again before giving Leonard a rueful smile. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I’m being so weird all of a sudden.”

Leonard licked his lips. “Don’t worry about it.” It was strange, every time he looked at Jim, like, really _looked_ at him, his features seemed to get more striking. Were his eyes ever this blue before? Of course he’d seen them when they were at the game, but they weren’t as blue then, Leonard was sure of it.

Perhaps it was just the way the light fell, perhaps if he just took a closer look…

“What are you doing?” Jim asked.

What _was_ Leonard doing? He wasn’t sure actually, the one second he was thinking, the next he was subconsciously leaning towards Jim, dangerously close. He recoiled at Jim’s interruption.

“Nothing,” he blurted out. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.” He took another step back and raised his wand again. “Eh, I’m going back down here…to…to the basement,” he stuttered out. “You know how to make you way back to the Great Hall, I mean common room. Okay, great. Good night.”

He hurried down the seven flights of stairs in record speed, his heart thumping in his chest by the time he got back to the Hufflepuff common room.

Perhaps it wasn’t indigestion after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take forever trying to think who is teaching what class, which Original Series character is in which house, and which brooms they fly....
> 
> The ghost of Gryffindor is none other than Charles Rasmussen, the first captain of the starship Enterprise.   
> Though in this realm he is Charles Rasmussen, former Wizengamot and retired Supreme Mugwump.
> 
> We're halfway there now. I hope it's still a fun read.


	7. February

Leonard woke up with his duvet covered in a thin layer of heart shaped confetti that continually floated down from the charmed ceiling of the seventh year dorm. He groaned, mussed the pink paper out of his hair and tossed the duvet up, coughing when most of the confetti wound up in his mouth instead of off the bed.

It was the most wretched day of the year: Valentine’s day. He couldn’t believe there was once a time in his life where he actually looked forward to it.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the thought. Of course _that_ had all been before the catastrophic events of last year, where a bad break-up followed by the miraculous yet suspiciously swift recovery of his ex-girlfriend made for some shitty memories he could treasure for eternity.

He rolled himself out of bed and grumbled when he realized that the soft carpet of the Hufflepuff dorms were now lined with a small layer of rose petals, which clung to his feet with each step he took.

He coughed unceremoniously and wiped a piece of confetti from his tongue.

Leonard was greeted in the common room by Christine Chapel who, by the looks of it, had been awake for a while already. She was sitting in the chair they had now more or less claimed as their own, but stood up when Leonard approached to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Valentine’s day, Leo,” she said with a smile.

Leonard’s frown deepened. “How I’ve learned,” he said with thorough articulation. “Never to put you in charge of seasonal decorations, ever again.”

Chapel shrugged. “You told me to do _whatever_ , so I decided to do _everything_ ,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Besides, this is our last year, Leo. I want every moment to be like a special snowflake, grafted into my memory,” she laughed at her own words. “Did you like the confetti? Was it too much?”

“ _Everything_.” Leonard made a wide gesture with his arms. “Was too much.”

Chapel smirked. “Then you’re not going to like what I did to the Great Hall.”

Leonard sat down. “You’ve been sorted in the wrong House.”

With the innocent way Chapel looked at him, she seemed to agree.

Chapel sat down on the arm of Leonard’s chair, like she always did.  “Lots of students are going to Hogsmeade after class,” she said, pausing expectantly.

“And?” Leonard asked.

“And I’m pretty sure a couple of prefects need to be present to supervise,” Chapel continued. “Someone responsible, and reliable, who doesn’t happen to have any plans for today…”

“Hmm,” Leonard replied, staring at the ceiling as if he was in deep thought. “If only the Head Boy had assigned a prefect to take care of these things.”

Chapel snorted. “I asked Spock to do it. But he cancelled because he had a date. Don’t look at me like that, Leonard.”

The word _date_ and _Spock_ , and the inclusion of both in a single sentence made Leonard’s face contort in a repulsed grimace, like he’d just eaten a vomit flavored jelly bean.

“Spock? On a date?” he repeated incredulously. “Who is that desperate?”

Chapel nudged Leonard by the shoulder. “Don’t say that, Leonard. Spock is responsible, and kind, and he’s both prefect _and_ Quidditch Captain. He’s quite the catch if you think about it.”

“Wait,” Leonard sat up straight, slightly alarmed. “Are _you_ going on a date with Spock?”

“Of course not,” Chapel replied. “All I’m saying is that _someone_ who likes people who are _responsible_ and _intelligent_ might—”

“You know who it is, don’t you?”

Chapel shook her head. “My lips are sealed. But hey, if you’re that curious, you can go to Hogsmeade and find out yourself.”

“I don’t care,” Leonard replied resolutely.

“Jim’s going too you know.”

“I don’t care about that either.”

That, of course, was a lie. He did care about that. In fact he cared a lot. He cared so much that he’d spent the last week and a half trying to find out whether Jim was going to do something on Valentine’s day, and who he would be doing it with. And also, why he was doing anything on Valentine’s day in the first place because it was a stupid holiday.

Which was the truth, no matter who asked him for it.

He just wished he hadn’t verbalized said truth to Jim over and over again until he was fairly certain that _if_ Jim had any plans to do something on Valentine’s day, it certainly wasn’t going to be with him.

The thought alone only worsened his already pretty ghastly state of mind.

“So?” Chapel asked, after Leonard stayed quiet again. “Will you do it?”

“No,” Leonard replied, feeling even worse than before. “Ask T’Pring to do it. God knows what she does all day.”

“She’s going out with Stonn,” Chapel replied, suddenly more focused on braiding her hair than having a conversation. “Anyway, It’d be unfair to ask her. Considering you don’t have plans.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. After his break-up Chapel had been the first in trying to make him move on, but she recently became almost unbearably tenacious. He knew what she was doing, forcing him out of the castle. Even he had enough self-knowledge to know he’d only be moping around for the day if he didn’t . Still, there was nothing more annoying than someone who believed to ‘know what’s best for you’.

He stood up and walked to the door of the common room.

“Where are you going?” Chapel asked.

“Breakfast,” Leonard grumbled in reply, deliberately not asking Chapel to join him like he usually did.

The students in the Great Hall had the decency not to act too intimate under the scrutinizing eyes of their professors. Which was for everyone’s benefit, because Leonard had sworn to himself he would subtract at least fifty points for every display of intimacy he saw during breakfast.

He hadn’t needed to act on that threat. Although a young Gryffindor couple who were getting unacceptably cozy together had a bit of a scare when Leonard gave them a glare that put a basilisk to shame.

He sat down at the end of the Hufflepuff table by himself, poured himself a cup of coffee and bit into a slice of unbuttered toast with a frown on his face.

More than willing was he to spend his entire breakfast alone like this, and he was able to discourage most people from sitting next to him by keeping a very unwelcoming expression on his face.

One of the few people who was apparently oblivious to social cues and body language was Montgomery Scott, who flopped down on the bench opposite to Leonard.

Leonard looked up at Scott, scowling, about to tell the prefect to sit at his House table when he saw the gloomy expression on Scott’s face.

“Hi,” Scotty said, his voice comically apathetic.  

“Hey,” Leonard said back, surprised by Scotty’s sulkiness.

“Rubbish day, isn’t it?” Scotty said, playing with the bacon and eggs he’d just served himself.

“Yeah,” Leonard replied slowly, unsure of the direction their conversation was going. “It is.”

Scotty sighed, deep and long and obviously hamming it up. Leonard looked at Scotty, who glanced back, face as gloomy as before but with nothing but anticipation in his eyes.  

Leonard decided it wasn’t worth it and was trying to enjoy his breakfast, which at that point was the highlight of his day.

This seemed a lot more difficult than he thought with Scotty sighing melodramatically every minute or so. He was still adamantly unresponsive until he asked Scotty to hand him the sugar bowl. Scotty gave it so lackluster that Leonard bitterly pushed his food out in front of him and asked reluctantly. “Is something bothering you, Scotty?”

Scotty looked at Leonard slowly, he shrugged. “Oh, nothing,” he replied.

Leonard had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep himself from lashing out. “Hmm,” he said, silently counting to three. ‘Are you sure?”

“No, I’m sure.” Scotty replied. “After all it’s just another year at Hogwarts,” he said. “Another year without a girlfriend.”

Leonard bit the insides of his cheeks and lamented the fact that he bothered to come out of bed that morning. He angrily skewered a piece of fruit on his fork and pointed it at Scotty. “It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, Scotty,” he said, before stuffing it in his mouth.

Scotty frowned. “I wouldn’t know, now would I?” he said. “At least you _had_ someone.”

“Yes,” Leonard admitted, stabbing angrily at the remaining fruit slices on his plate. “And it has made me the cheerful individual that I am today.”  

Scotty was about to say something but lost his train of thought when he saw Gaila approach. Gaila who was dressed from head to toe in pink and red, completely indifferent to the pointing and muffled snickers that followed because of it.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” she said, using her wand to sprinkle around a red sparkle that trickled down like fireworks. Leonard waved The Daily Prophet around to get rid of the pink hearted sparkles, until one of them accidentally lit the paper on fire.

“It’s _real_ fireworks, Leo,” she said with a proud swell while she doused the paper.  

“ _No_ playing with fire in the main hall,” Leonard replied with an admonishing finger. “and stop rolling your eyes at me, there are safety regulations for a reason.”

“But it’s Valentine’s day,” Gaila said huffily. She sat down and ate one of the heart shaped chocolates that were evenly distributed on the tables. “You’re no fun.”

“No. I’m not,” Leonard replied, stuffing two into his mouth himself. They didn’t taste half bad.

Gaila emptied one of the candy bowls in her bag and stuck her wand in her hair, under the heart shaped little hat she was wearing. “Have you seen Jim?” she asked, adjusting her headgear in the reflection of one of the empty serving plates.

“No,” Leonard replied.

“Oh,” Gaila replied. “Well, do you know where he might be?”

Leonard arched a brow. “No?”

Gaila took her hat off and twisted it in her hand, examining it from different angles before tipping her wand on it. The hat steadily began increasing in size. “Could you give him a message when you see him?”

“No.” Leonard replied again, growing annoyed.

Gaila, who was now admiring her improved  headgear, which was now a about the size of a sombrero, briefly glanced at Leonard. “Why not?” she asked.

“Because.” Leonard replied impatiently. “I have other things to do in my life than to go around giving people messages all day. I’m Head Boy. Not an owl.”

Gaila, disinterested by Leonard’s sudden fit of temper looked at Scotty. “He says that a lot doesn’t he?” she said.

Scotty, who momentarily forgot that he was miserable, nodded. “I know, I think he’s actually rather thrilled they made him Head Boy. He certainly makes an effort to remind us all every minute of the day,” Scotty replied conversationally.  

“I keep saying I’m Head Boy because for some odd reasons you keep forgetting what that entails,” Leonard gritted out. “Which, may I remind you again, is a lot.”

Gaila gave Leonard a beatific smile. “There, there,” she said, patting Leonard on the head with such sincerity that it didn’t cross Leonard’s mind to be insulted. “And you’re the best Head Boy we ever could’ve wished for, Leo.”

She scrambled through her bag and offered Leonard one of the wrapped chocolate hearts she’d just swiped from the table. Leonard stuffed it in his mouth with a frown.

“I was certain Jim would be here,” Gaila said, thinking out loud. “He said he wanted to go to Hogsmeade today, so it made sense if he came to get you.”

Leonard almost choked on his chocolate. “Why?” he asked, between coughs. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Gaila replied. Without looking away she handed Leonard another chocolate and watched as he unwrapped it and stuffed it in his mouth.

Leonard was just stuffing his mouth to keep himself from blurting out anything else.

 _If_ he had a crush on Jim.

Which he did.

He should at least make it a case in point not to go flaunting it around everywhere like a howler on the loose.

Under no circumstances could he share this with any of the girls. Those gossiping monsters: Gaila, or, god forbid, Christine, who would encourage him to do all the dumbest things, like _confess_ or _act on it_. Catastrophes waiting to happen.

“Are you going to Hogsmeade, Scotty?” Gaila asked, who had turned her attention to Scotty instead of Leonard, who was mulling his thoughts while stuffing chocolates in his mouth by the pair.

“And sit by myself?” Scotty replied miserably. “I can do that in the castle.” (Leonard wished he’d done so now).

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be alone there at all,” Gaila replied. “I know lots of girls who’re going to Hogsmeade without dates. Lots of nice girls. Do you know Lesley Wodehouse?”

 “Do I now,” Scotty groused. “Last Christmas, the house elves placed mistletoe by the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room. Lesley Wodehouse basically leapt over a canape to avoid standing under it with me. It’s demeaning is what it is.”

“Maybe she was just practicing the Blitzen Ballet maneuver?” she offered politely, but noticing how ridiculous it sounded and quickly reacting to the unamused look on Scotty’s face added: “Lighten up, Scotty. I’m sure you’ll find someone. Your Quidditch commentaries have been really poignant lately.”

It was an odd attempt to cheer Scotty up, but when Gaila smiled under her floppy hat, Scotty couldn’t help but smirk back. She twisted to the other side of the bench when a couple of Slytherin fifth years called her to the other side of the room, and she darted off.

“She really is a sweetheart, isn’t she?” Scotty said, watching her walk away. “Do you think she’d—.”

“No,” Leonard replied quickly before Scotty could finish his sentence. “Not in a million years.”

“All right, all right,” Scotty replied annoyed and then continued on a lighter note. “But she did have a point. No reason not to go to Hogsmeade now, is it?.”

“What?” Leonard asked. “I thought you said this day was rubbish.”

“I _did_ ….and it _is_ ,” Scott said defensively. “But think about what Gaila said: single girls.”

Leonard was too amazed to react, it didn’t deter Scott from sharing his ingenious plan.

“Think about all those nice girls, all alone on Valentine’s day, waiting for plan B,” with a flourish Scott pointed at himself. “To come along. They’ll be at our feet, Leo.”

“ _Our_ feet?” Leonard repeated.

“Well, I can’t bloody well go on my own can I?” Scott said impatiently. “Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

“Oh, no,” Leonard said shaking his head. “no, no, no.”

Scott frowned. “But--.”

“No,” Leonard said, pointing his finger at Scotty who looked crestfallen. “I am not going to harass people on Valentine’s day,” he said, packing his bag demonstratively. “I am going to class, and then I’m going to the library where I will stay until this wretched day has ended. Scott, the only way for me to get to Hogsmeade is if the Giant Squid manhandles me across the Great Lake. In which case I’d rather he drowned me.”

<_\\__o___\\_____\\__o__>

Never had Leonard been more disappointed with himself than that afternoon. Flying on his broom, Scott following close behind on his self-improved Cleansweep.

Leonard used the term ‘improved’ lightly, as Scott’s broom was now prone to taking an occasional diagonal dive whilst coughing sparks from the end, and it almost caught Leonard’s jacket on fire twice before he forbid Soctty from flying next to him.  

It didn’t deter Scott from trying to strike up conversation.

“Whoo,” he yelled above the howling wind. “Quite a breeze isn’t it?” he continued to banter. Mostly to himself because Leonard, who had already given in to accompanying Scott to Hogsmeade, wasn’t going to entertain Scotty on top of that, he could do that himself.

“I don’t know how you’ve talked me into this,” he told Scott when they landed, accusingly. Further away from the crowd and closer to the Great Lake, where, between the trees, they were more or less sheltered from the elements.

Scott clapped his hand on Leonard’s back. “Because you’re a good friend, Leo,” he said. “And that’s what matters.” Scotty proceeded to lead the way through the trees back to the main street, happily chatting away, not at all perturbed by the weather, long forgetting his earlier frame of mind.

Leonard opted to enjoy the serenity of their walk, once on the main street he knew that it would just be couples, dozens of couples. Just _couples_ everywhere.

But from where they were standing, it seemed like any other day…why it could be any unremarkable day, like a Tuesday or a Thursday.

Then he noticed two figures walking in the distance on the lakeshore.

In an attempt to ignore them both he looked the other way. Unfortunately, they had also caught Scotty’s attention, who stopped walking.

“Hey, isn’t that Uhura?” he said, leaning sideway to get a better look between the trees. “I think she’s on a date,” he said.

“ _Nooo_ , on Valentine’s day?” Leonard replied acerbically and kept walking. “Really, Scotty just because you’re alone doesn’t mean you have to pry in other people’s --.”

“With Spock.”

Leonard pulled Scotty down as he ducked behind a bush, and peered above the shrubbery. “I’ll be damned,” he said. Spock and Uhura were indeed walking together, holding hands. “Well, there’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” Leonard muttered. Uhura started laughing when Spock, though this was very unlikely, made a joke.

Scotty just shook his head, clearly even more disapproving than Leonard. “Well, that’s just bloody brilliant,” he grumbled.

They stayed behind the bush, hunched uncomfortably but completely unable to pry themselves away from the most peculiar scene they’d ever seen. And they were wizards for goodness sake.

So immersed in the situation where he and Scotty that they hadn’t noticed a third figure kneeling behind the shrub next to them. Leaning very close before whispering: “What are we doing?”

Recognizing the voice Leonard nearly fell over in surprise. “Jim!” he exclaimed. “We were, ehhh…”

Jim didn’t wait for Leonard’s explanation, he looked into the direction he and Scotty had been looking at. “Is that Nyota?” he said, and before either Leonard or Scotty could react he moved to stand and started waving his hand. “Hey, Ny!”

Leonard pulled him back down by his wrist with a hard yank, while Scotty, on cue covered his mouth with his hand. “Be quiet.”

Jim frowned, and mumbled something completely incoherent to Leonard.

“She’s on a date,” Scotty whispered loudly. “With Spock. _Ugh_!”

Scotty retracted his hand and rubbed his palm on his trousers.

“No way,” Jim said, before pulling a face by, what could only be the aftertaste of Scotty’s palm. “With that robot?”

He turned his attention back to Spock and Uhura’s general direction, while Scotty gently leaned towards Leonard and whispered: “What’s a robot?”

Leonard shrugged.  

“Um, guys?”  Jim started, he shook Leonard by the shoulder. “They’re coming this way.”

Leonard moved to grab his wand, but Scotty already had his in hand.

Instead of casting any number of useful spells, Scotty managed to botch a simple smokescreen spell so that a very big ball of dusty ash exploded from his wand.

Luckily, Jim’s alarm had been a false one, and Uhura and Spock had turned back the way they came.

Still covered in soot, Leonard glared daggers at Scotty, while Jim laughed so hard he clutched his stomach half-choking.

“I panicked,” Scotty replied with a rueful smile. “You know charms aren’t my strong suit, Leo.”

The cleaning up didn’t go nearly as quick as how the damage had been done but once Leonard was sure he only had ash in his mouth and nowhere else, and Jim insisted that he could do his own cleaning spell properly, they’d more or less had their fill of eavesdropping and decided to go to the Three Broomsticks.

The place was packed as usual, and, just as Leonard expected, most customers were seated in pairs.

They sat down at one of the few remaining free tables, wedged between a couple of loud talking girls, and an old married couple.

“Drinks anyone?” Scotty asked, who stood up immediately after sitting down.

“Firewhiskey,” Leonard replied. Jim, who was on his best-behavior, ordered a butterbeer for himself, and Scotty darted to the bar to get their drinks.

He returned with one Firewhiskey, one butterbeer and one tall pink drink that bubbled little hearts and held two straws, which Scotty drank from simultaneously. He turned back to a Hufflepuff student standing by the bar and pointed at the drink. “Lovely,” he said and the girl smiled.

“That’s Carolyn Palamas,” Scotty told Leonard, who certainly hadn’t asked. “Lovely isn’t she? Should I invite her to sit with us? Oh, perhaps not, she’s here with friends. Maybe later.”

The brief encounter with Carolyn, who was a fourth year Hufflepuff and who Leonard happened to know just as well as any other Hufflepuff student, had put Scotty back into a terrific mood. He drank his pink drink cheerfully and boisterously talked how Keenser, had found himself a mate in the castle.

“He lives in the tapestry corridor now, haven’t seen him in over a week,” Scotty explained. Stirring his straw thoughtlessly while he spoke. “Randy bastard.”

“I did see something strange in the hall the other day,” Jim replied, moving his hands to simulate a large roundish shape. “Like, a green…thing,” Jim paused for a second. “Is Keenser a cat?” he asked hesitantly.

Scotty frowned. “Of course he’s a bloody cat.”

Jim’s attention was on Leonard though, who was shaking his head. “It’s really not,” he muttered so low that only Jim could hear.

For the past seven years, Montgomery Scott had hauled a large, moss colored creature with him whose only resemblance with a cat was that it had four legs…and a face. It made a distinct non-feline sound, never seemed to eat anything and kept climbing out on the ledge of the Ravenclaw tower where Scotty had spent many an evening yelling at the creature until it finally climbed back down. 

Scotty had always ascribed the thing as an unusually rare-colored domestic shorthair.

Which made Leonard snort on every such occasion as he’d never seen Keenser don hair of _any_ kind.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Scotty started, trying to steer the conversation away from his pet as quickly as possible and then drifting off in thought as he stared at Carolyn on the other side of the room, who, when Leonard turned around to see, was making a determined effort to seem very amused at what her friends were saying.

Still turned towards Carolyn he sighed. “You know,” he said. “If you want to talk to Carolyn you might as well take your chance now.”

“Are you sure?” Scotty asked, he turned around conspicuously, until Leonard turned him back so he was facing him.

“I’m sure,” Leonard replied. “She takes Ancient Studies, talk about that. Do _not_ mention Quidditch, or broomsticks and do not start about the _true_ history of the Quaffle, I beg you.”

“I can do that. I think,” Scotty said, nodding, then taking a deep breath, emptying his drink in one go and then stiffly walking towards Carolyn with a very affected kind of confidence that Leonard hoped Carolyn would find charming.

“That was nice of you,” Jim said as he watched Scotty being tolerated by Carolyn’s friends.

“You can go too if you want, I’m not that good a company right now,” Leonard replied, sipping from his whiskey and leaning back in his chair.

He didn’t actually mean it and watched Jim tentatively from the corner of his eye.

“I like your company fine, Bones,” Jim said, sounding just as aloof as Leonard had.

Leonard didn’t stop watching Jim.

They sat there, silent unlike their surroundings, only for a couple of words spoken every now and then. With a bit of seemingly aloof prying Leonard had found out that Jim had received a whole bunch of Valentine’s day cards and gifts. To his disappointment, Jim didn’t seem surprised, put off or humbled by that.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand because you’ve never seen me play Quidditch,” Jim said, dissecting a chocolate frog he’d pulled from his pocket with thumb and index finger. “But I can be _pretty_ charming when I want to be.”

Leonard smirked. “I can’t imagine,” he said, watching one of the dangling feet of the frog writhing between Jim’s lips.

“Fair enough, imagine this,” Jim wiped his hands on his trousers, sat upright and then mimed at Leonard with open palms. “Cup finale, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. At the Slytherin goal none other than legendary keeper Benjamin Finney. Half the crowd chanting ‘ _Fin for the win, Fin for the win’_. Rumor was, Finney could stop a quaffle even if he was hanging upside down, by his underpants…blindfolded.”

“This doesn’t at all sound like an overstatement,” Leonard said amusedly.

“Fiction emulates truth, Bones. As I was saying, Slytherin is on the lead 150-10, simply humiliating. Spock, the favorite seeker of the season facing second-year rookie, James Tiberius Kirk. Another point for Slytherin but at the same time the Gryffindor greenhorn makes a headlong dive for one of the pitches,” Jim made a whistling sound as he moved his hand down. “Snooping the snitch right from under Finney’s goal just as Finney reflexively made a swing at me.” Jim sniffed proudly. “Broke my jaw that day but it was absolutely worth it.”

Leonard shook his head incredulously. “Did you at least win?”

Jim’s smile faded. “No,” he said.

For the first time that day, Leonard let out a genuine laugh.

But Jim was pretty charming when he wanted to be, and more often when he wasn’t trying to.  

Even now, as Jim half-smirked back at him, perhaps trying to look insulted when he so obviously wasn’t. “I’m glad you find my defeat amusing,” he said.

Leonard attempted a more solemn expression. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” Jim leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He was staring at Leonard again, in the same way that Leonard wasn’t really sure whether he was supposed to say something or not. Then Jim’s smirk turned into a genuine smile.

“What is it?” Leonard asked.

Jim shook his head. “Nothing. Just glad you decided to go out today.” He shifted to lean on his elbow. “I was really hoping you would go with me, but I was kind of afraid of asking. With you hating Valentine’s and all.”

Leonard opened his mouth, closed it again, and then opened it to blurt out. “Well, I don’t _really_ hate it.”

That was a lie but oh, Leonard could just punch himself, he knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut about Valentine’s day those past couple of weeks.

“Really?” Jim’s smile was awfully contagious.

Leonard hoped his cheeks weren’t actually turning red but he was just imagining it. He tried leaning on his own open palm just in case, attempting to be nonchalant.

It didn’t feel nonchalant at all, and he folded his hands in his lap,  only to realize that was also kind of weird and quickly moving them to the table.

Jim tilted his head his brow arched. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Leonard decided that leaning back in the chair with his glass in his hand was now his safest bet. It was all getting a little ridiculous. He was Head Boy, for goodness sake. He needed some air, he thought, clean the air.

With a deep breath he mustered up all the resolution he had. “Jim, I--,” he began, and nearly dropped his glass on the ground when he was disturbed by a high pitched noise.

“Jim, you came!” Whatever Leonard was about to say was completely thrown out of the window when another Gryffindor student approached their table. Leonard had noticed her when they entered, she was one of the girls who had gone to Hogsmeade in a large group of friends. Hers just happened to be the loudest lot in the Three Broomsticks at the moment. She gave Jim a broad smile, pulled fingers through her long blonde hair that reminded Leonard of Chapel’s but not in a good way, and promptly ignored Leonard’s presence as she continued speaking. “I thought you said you weren’t going to Hogsmeade today.”

“Ehh, yeah. I changed my mind?” Jim replied, his tone a little aloof.

The girl, who seemed determined continued with the same chipperness. “So anyway, me and the girls were thinking of going to Honeydukes later. You should totally come with us.”

“He can’t,” Leonard blurted out, before catching his own lie, though sounding impressively sincere as he said it. He tried his best not to glance at Jim but to remain in eye-contact with the girl.

“Why?” the girl demanded petulantly. She crossed her arms and cocked her hips and Leonard thought longingly of  his time as a first year when people actually respected the _Head Boy_.

“Never you mind, _why_ ,” Leonard replied, suddenly very irritated. “You see this?” he said, pointing at the pin, in case the girl had missed it. “If I say he can’t then he can’t.”

The girl, bless her soul, narrowed her eyes and looked at Jim. Her two-facedness showing as she managed to soften her expression completely as she smiled at him. “Jim?” she asked expectantly.

Jim attempted to give the girl a rueful smile, but left quite an injury as he grinned with a shrug. “Sorry.”  

“Fine,” she said, and with a sharp turn walked back to her group of friends.

What remained was a rather long and awkward silence, strengthened only by Jim’s incessant staring with an expression that Leonard found slightly unnerving. He sipped from his Firewhiskey and tried to scope out Scotty, to relieve him from his misery. But Scotty was on the other side of the room, chatting and laughing loudly with Carolyn and her group of friends. Scotty didn’t need saving.

“You want another drink, Jim?” Leonard asked, standing up from his chair, realizing that a quick escape to the bar may just be what he needed.

To Leonard’s disappointment, Jim shook his head. “Let’s get out of here.” He stood up and shrugged his coat back on. Started walking before waiting for Leonard to reply. In order to catch up, Leonard quickly pulled on his own coat and followed.

Jim didn’t speak while they walked.

“Where are we going exactly, Jim?” Leonard asked.

“To the least crowded place in Hogsmeade I can think of,” Jim replied.

The Shrieking Shack was a strange contrast to the rest of Hogsmeade on a normal day, but now, during Valentine’s day, when everything was pink and fluffy and heart shaped confetti, it seemed almost hilariously out of place.

“What do you think?” Jim asked, as he jumped on the fence and sat swinging his legs.

Leonard stood opposite of Jim and leaned sideways to get a good look at the house behind it. “This place is awful,” he said appraisingly.

Jim gave Leonard an exaggerated bow. “I aim to please,” he said. “The worst place on the worst day of the year.”

“What makes you say that?” Leonard asked.

Jim snorted. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that every time someone says the words Valentine’s day your face just…” Jim scrunched his face into an expression of someone who seemed to be in great distress.

Leonard let out a laugh, but quickly composed himself to the grumpy self he had vowed himself to be today. “Excuse me, but when have I _ever_ made that face?” he asked seriously, and bit the inside of his lips to keep the laughter in.

“What are you talking about, you make that face –all the time–,” Jim replied, gesturing at Leonard with an open hand, contorting his face again. “ _Quidditch._ ” he summed up with a nagging voice. “ _Head Boy_.”

Leonard chuckled. “You know you can be a real brat sometimes.”

“I know,” Jim agreed. “Anyway, I think you can say what you wanted to say, now.”

“Say what?”  

“Well, weren’t you going to say something? Before whatsherface showed up?”

“I was wasn’t I…” Leonard replied, pretending like he didn’t remember. “I think that I was, I mean…how do I say this.”

Jim just stared at him, his expression serious. “Do I make you nervous, Bones?” he asked.

“No,” Leonard blurted out, and then, trying to sound less crazy let out a sigh. “At the moment I’m making myself nervous….let’s not dwell on that.”

“I won’t,” Jim replied with a look that hovered somewhere between amused and incredulous. He hopped off the fence and towards Leonard.

“What are you doing?” Leonard asked suspiciously.

Jim rolled his eyes, and Leonard sunk a little in his knees when Jim pressed his open palms down on Leonard’s shoulders. “In case it’s not clear already. I like you, Bones. _A lot_.” Jim’s voice was loud and clear and Leonard should have stopped him at that moment, where Jim paused between two pivotal sentences. But Leonard’s common sense was wavering and just like that the moment passed. Jim leaned closer and continued in a bit of a stage whisper: “Also, I know you tried to kiss me the other night, and the fact that you didn’t was kind of on me. And I’ve been beating myself up about it for days now. So if you try again, like for example right now, I promise I won’t mess it up.”

Leonard was shifting from one leg to the other, not really knowing which way of leaning was the least uncomfortable. “You promise, huh?” he repeated.

Jim nodded and held three fingers up in the air. “Scout’s honor.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Oh, right,” Jim scrunched his eyebrows. “It’s a muggle thing where you—,” The rest of Jim’s probably jumbled explanation was lost as Leonard mustered just about every bit of courage in his body to press his lips against Jim’s.

Leonard had made a fair deal of bad decisions in his life, but none of them ever felt this good.  


	8. April (1)

Leonard spent days on end in absolute bliss for, what seemed to his friends, little reason. Christine had started to inform him on the dangers of drinking one’s own concoctions unsupervised and now eyed him suspiciously during every Potions class. She was also shocked when after class she’d find Leonard sitting in the Hufflepuff common room instead of the library, which considering the time, was completely unheard of.

Leonard couldn’t help it. It had all seemed so trivial to worry about these things. He could just as well sit back and, as Jim would say: go with the flow.

He sat down in the back of Charms class, away from his usual spot and ignored Christine, who was leering at him from the front row. He let his mind drift again, chuckling to himself when he remembered that hilarious thing Jim said the day before during breakfast.

“Why are you grinning like that?”

“Huh, whatsthat?” Leonard muttered. Scotty was sitting next to him, and hardly paying attention himself. He was far too busy dusting away scattered feathers from his desk that were still drooping from the tip of his wand.

“There is something wrong with my wand.” Scotty examined the tip so closely he was about to poke out his left eye.

Leonard scowled, annoyed that his thoughts were disturbed. “There’s nothing wrong with your wand.” Leonard leaned on the table with one of his elbows and yawned, trying to remember what Jim said about rolled oats he'd found so funny.

Scotty sniffed. “It's either that or the spell.”

They were practicing _avis_ , but Scotty was having rotten luck with it. Professor Barnett was busy helping a group of Ravenclaws on the other side of the class.  Meanwhile Scotty grew so desperate he resorted to beating the end of his wand on the edge of the desk. “Keenser chewed on it and it just hasn’t been the same.”

“Calm down, here,” Leonard waved his own wand up and down. There was a loud bang and five little birds appeared on the table. They whistled and hopped around. One looked at Leonard with its head tilting from side to side.

“Yes, I know you can do it!” Scotty snapped, and he mimicked the movement by wildly waving his wand around. “ _avis_.” Again, there was a loud bang followed by lots of smoke. Scotty gasped and Leonard almost fell off his chair. A single down feather floated down, whereupon they both leaned back into their chair with a sigh of relief. “I give up. You know that bloody cat is the reason why the O.W.L.S are a disaster waiting to…"

Leonard had already stopped listening. He had more important things to think about than Scotty's 'cat'. It was the day before the holidays, and he still hadn’t finished next month’s patrolling shifts.

“Are you even listening to me?” Class had ended and Scotty was shoving his things, down-feathers and all, into his bookbag. He looked at Leonard expectantly.

“What?” Leonard asked.

“You’re going home for the Easter, right?” Scotty tried to stick one particularly becoming feather in the top buttonhole of his shirt. “Well, you go every year anyways.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it,” Leonard lied. He'd thought about it a lot until two days ago he’d come to a conclusion. He’d written his father that he’d stay until graduation. His father had been disappointed but not unsupportive, and his grandparents were home if he changed his mind.

It wasn’t that he felt sorry for leaving Jim all alone, Jim was fine without him, he knew that much. He knew Gary Mitchell wasn’t going either, so they’d most likely have the most exciting two weeks of their lives doing nothing but play on that empty Quidditch pitch and breaking every bone in their body. But the longer he thought about it the less appealing it sounded that he wasn’t there too. This was his last year, he could stay home whenever he liked after that. But he couldn’t go to Hogwarts whenever he fancied after graduation.

After class Leonard and Scotty walked to the Great Hall together where Scotty spotted Carolyn Palamas at the end of the Hufflepuff table. So naturally he ditched Leonard and ran her way while waving so abundantly he looked like an albatros about to take flight.

Leonard sat down at the Gryffindor table next to Gary Mitchell. Gary had just ended his lunch-time synopsis of Seeker Weekly and was now doing his daily divinations. He paused for a second to give Leonard the stink eye, then pried the tea cup from his next unsuspecting victim, the first year student Chekov.

"Hmm, yes," he deliberated as he peered inside the cup with one eye closed. "Well, I see a saw with a knife, so either you flunked your last test, or you’re in terrible danger…”

Chekov usually rosy cheeks turned pale as a sheet. “I aced my last transfiguration test.”

“Hmhm, that’s great, kid…” Gary replied absent-mindedly. His eyes were already angling for Leonard's empty coffee cup.

With a quick movement with his wand Leonard transfigured the cup into a tiny grey mouse, who scurried off the table before Gary could snatch it by the tail. Gary slammed Chekov's teacup on the table in anger. "Next!"

As if summoned Jim scooted in so close to Gary that they were sitting thigh to thigh and cheek to cheek (this also did nothing for Gary’s mood). When he handed Gary an empty coffee cup this only made matters worse. “Shoot, oh clairvoyant one,” he said, winking at Leonard who laughed but rolled his eyes.

Gary flicked his wand and the cup disappeared, muck and all.

“Hey!” Jim protested. “It was a really good one. I used my fork to make it into the shape of a d-"

Gary sniffed. “I refuse to use my gift for non-believers such as yourself.”

Jim sighed, and leaned on the desk with both arms. “So what am I supposed to do if I need to know my immediate future?”

Gary stood up from the long table. “Read the Horoscope section in the Daily Prophet. Quidditch practice is at seven.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Leonard watched Gary stomp out of the Great Hall and then turned back to Jim, who was staring at him.

“Hi,” Jim said.

“Hi,” Leonard replied, arching his brow and trying not to smile like an idiot. Chekov’s still rather worried presence made it somewhat easier. Jim slapped his hand on Chekov’s upper back. But Chekov was still looking at his cup with a forlorn expression.

“Mr. Chekov just received some bad news,” Leonard elaborated.

“Really?” Jim said, turning around to catch a last glimpse of Gary Mitchell. “I wouldn’t pay it any mind. He’s just angry that the school won’t permit us to practice Quidditch twenty-four hours a day,” he turned back round again and gave Chekov a big grin. “And by school I mean Head Boy over here.” He looked at Leonard. “You know Gary’s been complaining about you for over a week.”

“Has he now.” Leonard couldn’t bring himself to care. When it came to Quidditch he was already caring more than he thought he ever would. Which was not much.

“You messed up his Quidditch schedule”.

Leonard snorted. He'd tried but it hadn't felt like he'd succeeded.

The Gryffindor team was so close to winning the House Cup that Gary's determination entered the manic territory. So much so that Leonard tried to have it loosened up, even when disregarding his personal interest in doing so.

To his chagrin, professor Pike had merely pointed to an empty spot on top of a cabinet. The professor then held him hostage while he prattled on about weird muggle sports (he still wasn’t sure what a Hockey was, and why there were also blunt hooks involved) while pointing at broken photographs.  For the professor an elucidation on the importance of sports in a scholastic setting, for Leonard a hostage situation in which he had to wait an hour to be told 'NO'.

Though the professor did ask Mitchell to cut an hour off the _'extra-supplemental-but-also-Absolutely-Mandatory'_ Sunday afternoon training.

Gary then retaliated by giving Leonard unsolicited divinations in all forms he could think of, each new one more tragic than the latter. As if Leonard hadn't been punished enough. But by the looks of it Mitchell was losing steam. And Leonard suspected that by the end of the week the worst he could think of would be pushing Leonard off a moving staircase whilst dousing him in lukewarm tea pulp.

Of course Jim found the entire ordeal hilarious.

“He even named a technique after you. The Head Boy Buster, it’s when the beater manages to aim a bludger right on the nose of a player of the opposite team.”

“Oh yeah?” Leonard let out a humorless chuckle. He had a feeling he knew just how to fill the patrol schedule. Gary could think all he wanted about his poor life choices in a cold, damp dungeon corridor for the next couple of months.

Jim nodded, then turned to Chekov and took the cup out of his hand. Placing it well out of reach of them both by sliding it down the length of the table until it knocked over a glass of pumpkin juice on the lap of a fifth year student who glared at them both. “Sorry, my bad.” Jim turned his back on the student and back on Chekov. “So, are you excited yet?” he asked, sounding rather excited himself.

“Yeah,” Chekov replied, but Leonard didn’t hear the same amount of excitement in the kid’s voice as he did in Jim’s.

“Excited for what?” Leonard asked.

Jim smiled at Leonard as if he were creating an accomplice for a very fun little secret. “Pavel and I are going to spend the next two weeks exploring the castle.”

Leonard arched his brow. “D’you mean during the holidays?” Chekov nodded.

“You’re not going home, Chekov?” First years almost always returned home. Leonard couldn’t imagine being away from home for so long at that age.

Before Chekov could react, Jim did. “Pavel’s parents are looking for dragons in Romania.”

“They thought it was too dangerous for me to go along.”

Leonard didn’t know whether the disappointment in Chekov’s voice was because he couldn’t see his parents or the fact that he didn’t get to see dragons.

“That’s rough.” Leonard replied dispassionately. A child had no business looking for dragons in Romania, parents or no.

“Oh, but it’s fine,” Chekov replied, a rosiness appearing on his cheeks the same way it always did when he was speaking up to a senior who wasn’t Jim. “They gave me a cat to keep me company.”

“A cat, you say?” Leonard was intrigued. With that creature Scotty still hauled around he was rather skeptical of the species as a whole.

“A tabby cat,” Chekov said. “He wanders around the castle most of the time.”

“Stellar company,” McCoy muttered.

“But he always comes back at night,” Chekov added somewhat defensively. “Otherwise I’d worry.”

“And I'm giving him a real Hogwarts tour,” Jim chimed in right after Chekov. “So either way he’ll have plenty of stuff to do.”

“'Real' Hogwarts?” Leonard arched his brow. “You mean the kind of Hogwarts where you show him places he’s not allowed to go?”

“If the teachers don’t know it exists, they technically can’t forbid us to go there.” Jim’s eyes twinkled and turned a little brighter. “For example, did you know there are seven hidden exits out of the castle to which none of the professors ever told me I could not use?”

“And I am absolutely thrilled for you, but you won’t be telling Chekov any of them.” Leonard sniffed. “It’s bad enough to have you sneaking around at ungodly hours.”

“Jim’s already told me about the one with the head by the--,” Chekov turned quiet and even redder when he saw the disapproving expression on Leonard’s face.

“An-ny-way,” Jim gently pushed his shoulder against Chekov, so that they were kind of rocking side to side. “It’s not like anything dangerous ever happens out here, at all.”

“Yes. I am as dissapointed as you are,” Leonard replied drily, Jim pretended not to notice.

They talked for a little while until Chekov excused himself from the table to head for the owlery. If he sent a letter now, his parents could get it before leaving for Romania.

Leonard and Jim were alone now and the silence that formed between them almost comfortable. It wasn't a bad kind of silence, but it did make Leonard feel funny. It was like drinking three pepperup potions in a row.

“So,” Jim said with a smile that marked mischief. “You know what day it is today?”

“Tuesday,” Leonard replied. “Why?”

Jim’s smile dropped and he pouted his lips. “Oh.” His brows furrowed and his eyes glanced to the side in thought. “Really? I thought it was Wednesday…that Quidditch schedule is messing me up.”

Leonard wasn’t proud of it but Wednesday was the day that he patrolled the castle’s seventh floor.

Now Jim had the tendency to occasionally show up there at about eleven-ish and they may or may not have made out next to that weird ballet troll painting a couple of times. Or, you know, every week… at eleven-o-five sharp. Also, Leonard may or may not have accepted to patrol the seventh floor for the last month for that exact reason.

It wasn’t all without a price, he did subtract five points from Gryffindor the first time, and insisted to walk Jim back to Gryffindor Tower. He forgot all subsequent Wednesdays but that was beside the point.

“It’s Tuesday, Jim,” Leonard repeated decidedly.

He needed to set boundaries.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jim replied flicking his hand dismissively.

Lunch was over and everyone went their separate ways. After classes Leonard skipped dinner (much to Christine’s chagrin) and instead opted for sneaking some food from the kitchens, after which he tried to get as many hours of studying in before starting his evening shift.

Still a bit stiff in the bones from all that sitting, he yawned loudly and stretched out as he strolled through the empty corridors with his illuminated wand in front of him.

He trudged through the corridor, his feet sliding, having half a mind to just have a bit of a lie-down in the middle of the castle. He didn’t know whether he was extremely tired, bored or both. He _so_ wished it was Wednesday. He stopped walking when he heard another pair of footsteps approaching, he aimed his wand to the direction of the sound.

“ _lumos maxima_ ,” a bright flash of light (he heard an old man in a painting groan in annoyance) revealed the red Gryffindor sweater he’d recognize anywhere.

“Jim?” Leonard dimmed the light of his wand and lowered it.

“Surprise!” Jim stage whispered. He looked rather proud of himself and came up to Leonard beaming. “It’s Tuesday.”

“Oh, no.” Leonard shook his head and took Jim by the upper arm as if he were a child being reprimanded. “No, no, no.” His grip was very light, and Jim easily pulled himself loose and danced a little out of Leonard’s reach. He was still grinning like an idiot.

Leonard was trying hard not to do the same. Wrangling the corners of his mouth to stay down he frowned. “You must be very proud of yourself now.”

Jim bit the insides of his cheeks in his own attempt to look serious. “What?” he said innocently.

A low chuckle that escaped from deep in Leonard’s chest escaped, and he crossed his arms and leaned against the brick wall behind him, closing his eyes until another chuckle escaped and he shook his head disapprovingly to himself. “This is so not good.”

“It isn’t?” Jim’s voice was so close it made all the hairs on the back of Leonard’s hair stand on end, he fought the urge to shiver all over. When he opened his eyes, Jim really was right there, just about an inch separated from each him and Jim’s eyes electric blue even in the dimmed light of his wand.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Leonard muttered before closing that space between them.

If kissing Jim the first time had been a mistake, the ones that followed had been nothing but a thing of selfish unadulterated goodness in the way one’d wax poetry about if he were the waxing kind. The number of people Leonard had kissed in his short lifetime, and by that meaning ‘really’ kissed, could be counted on a single hand. But even at its best Jo had never been like this. In retrospect Jo had been just as frigid and uncommitted as the air element Ravenclaw often stood for. Jim was all heat though, and the tale months ago on how he used to set things on fire at his parent’s home rang more true than ever.

Jim pulled back, just a little, scowling. “Ten points? What happened to five?”

“Because it’s Tuesday,” Leonard replied, grinning giddily at his own reply. He pressed a kiss between Jim’s brows and felt them relax under his lips. “I wanted to tell you something.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed, and the lines kissed smooth turned wrinkled again. “Now?”

“You’re not even curious?”

The closeness disappeared when Jim shifted a little just in order to cross his arms, his brows still firmly in place. “Ok.”

Jim’s reaction amused Leonard considerably. “It’s not bad news, you know,” he said with arched brow.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jim replied, though he seemed a bit less standoffish than before.

“Well it’s about tomorrow morning, I wrote to my dad and—”

“Dim that light!”  

Leonard jumped away from the wall instinctively holding his wand at the ready, it’s tip still lit at the castle wall. “Some of us are trying to sleep!” One man in a cart full of wizards squinted and pointed in Leonard’s direction. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

 “Sorry,” Leonard lowered his wand and used his other hand to guide Jim away from the wall. “Right, let’s try that again,” he muttered to no one in particular. “I thought it would be better, well better isn’t the right word. Fun! More fun, if I stayed at the castle instead of go home.”

Jim’s eyes widened only a little, but the pause that followed was entirely too long for it not to be painfully awkward. 

“Do you…do you not want me here?” Leonard asked hesitantly, already regretting it.

“No!” Jim exclaimed, his voice cracking. “I mean–-“  

From the nearest dark wall the same voice bellowed. “And be quiet!!” 

“Give us a minute!” Jim yelled back, which was rewarded with a lot of outraged mumbling from the adjacent paintings steadily increasing in volume.  

“Oh, boy.” Leonard kept a good grip on Jim’s hand as he pulled him away from the corridor while Jim seemed too preoccupied with arguing with the paintings.  “Time to go.”  

“Gryffindor tower already?” Jim asked after sticking his tongue out to a knight on the wall.  

“It’s still Tuesday.”

“Did I ever mention I hate Tuesdays?” Jim only half-complained. He pulled himself away from Leonard just so he could turn and hold hands properly.

They took the main stairwell down to the sixth floor which was essentially a detour but neither really seemed to mind. As they approached the stairwell that ended at the Gryffindor Tower entrance, Leonard noticed that the hallway wasn’t as dark as it ought to be, nor as deserted.

“Who’s there?” Leonard said, raising his own wand cautiously as he stared at the two figures by the picture of the Fat Lady.

“It’s just us, Leo,” a deep voice replied.

“Gary?” Leonard stuck his wand back into his sweater sleeve and descended further down, followed  by Jim.

By us, Gary had meant himself and Elizabeth Dehner, who was standing next to Gary with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed in worry. “Why are you two here? Elizabeth, you’re supposed to be in the great Hall.”  

“Gary called me here, there’s been…” Dehner hesitated and looked at Mitchell.

“One of the first years, Irina Galliulin, told me the boy Chekov has gone missing. He…apparently, he couldn’t find his cat.” 

“So what? He’s wandering somewhere in the castle?” Leonard asked, already unpinning the Head Boy badge from his sweater. “I’ll call the others tell them to look out for him.”

Gary and Elizabeth gave each other a meaningful look, before Gary hesitantly spoke again.  “We’ve already looked everywhere in the castle. That’s why we’re here. Irina…well….she just meant it as a joke.”

Leonard felt a slight panic. “What kind of joke?”

“Well, she said she saw it running off into the forest. Just for the fun of it, nothing serious, there’s no way she thought he might actually do it.”

“He knows how to get out of the castle,” Jim muttered, he looked at Leonard with large eyes.

Leonard stomach felt like it’d been turned twice over. “Get Professor Pike, quickly. And don’t let anyone leave their rooms.” He turned around, running off the flights of stairs down to the first floor as quickly as he could.  

He only noticed Jim’s following him when he was two flights down, already completely forgotten that he too had to be in bed. “Jim.” He didn’t stop running even to speak. “Go back to your common room, now.”  

“And let you run into the Forbidden Forest all by yourself? No way.”  

There wasn’t time to personally bring Jim back up all those flights of stairs, nor was there time to argue. They ran outside, the still cool spring evening clouding their breath. It was misty outside, the forest in front of them no more than a dull shadow in the distance, and it was quiet all over which made their footsteps in the damp grass even louder.  

When they reached the edge of the forest they stopped, trying, hopelessly to peer deeper into the dark.  

“He could be anywhere,” Jim said, and tried to step closer to the edge of the forest till Leonard quickly grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Wait.” Leonard pulled his wand from his sleeve and aimed it towards the trees. A bright light appeared at the tip and floated in a straight path into the forest dividing into smaller fairy lights that spread deeper into the forest and were just bright enough so that they could see where they were going.  

Together they entered the edge of the forest surrounded by the dimmed light and the slight sounds of shuffling and scattering of creatures of the night anxious of being found.  

“I can’t see a thing,” Jim said, trying to stand by the light furthest away from them and narrowing his eyes.  

Flicking his wand again Leonard made the light turn brighter, and the sounds of scurrying turned a little louder. “Keep your eyes on the one in front of you.” Leonard pointed at the two lights furthest away from them and they began to float wobbly deeper into the forest illuminating each area in its path. He watched quietly, each passing second made his heart beat a little harder and faster, until it beat in his throat as his light began so move so far away he began losing sight of it.   

“I see something!” Jim whispered. Before Leonard could react Jim sprinted off towards his light, followed on his heel by Leonard, almost tripping over every tree root and hole on the ground. “Slow down,” Leonard yelled behind him, trees catching him by the knots of his sweater.  

Jim didn’t seem to hear him, he kept running until he reached the light in the distance, and reached down to grab what he had found. He held Chekov’s muddy Gryffindor scarf up and Leonard felt himself becoming nauseous. “He came this way,” Jim said, and with the scarf still clenched in his fist he kept walking straight ahead.  

“Jim,” Leonard began, still walking just behind Jim who walked the quickest pace he could manage. “You need to go back to the castle, if something happens –“  

“If something happens there will be two people who’ll be able to deal with it instead of one,” Jim interjected calmly. “I’m not leaving you in the forest alone. And just so you know every second you use arguing could be spent on finding Pavel.”  

Leonard sped up, taking long steps to catch up with Jim’s heavy pace. When he caught up he grabbed Jim by both his shoulders. “I’m not arguing with you on this, Jim. I told you to go to the castle, so go, now.”  

Jim glared at Leonard, ready to take on the confrontation, when he turned his head away and down. 

“Jim, I’m not saying it again.”  

“ _Shhhh_.” Jim crouched down. “I thought I heard something.”  

“Jim…” Leonard’s hand was sort of reaching for Jim’s arm, as far away as it were. “Jim…” It was very quiet, and through the darkness of the night there lurked another shadow.  

Jim moved slowly towards it, but it took Leonard a little longer to realize that it was Chekov crouching down. “There you are,” his voice was too loud in the big quiet. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”  

Leonard’s light had stopped and was now suspended a couple of feet away from where Jim and Chekov were sitting, splitting it thrice, he let them move in opposite directions like wisps in the wind, and tried to follow each of them with his eyes. Something wasn’t right, he was sure of it.  

“What are you sitting all here alone for anyway, silly,” Jim half-laughed, still too loud for Leonard’s taste.

“Jim, I need you two to get back here,” Leonard muttered, Jim didn’t hear, and Chekov barely happened to notice anything. His eyes were following one of the wisps as well, his lips were moving but Leonard was too far away to tell what he was saying.

“What did you say?” Jim asked, moving a little closer to Chekov.

Chekov pointed at the wisp in the middle, its floating presence shone on something in the dark that was neither glass nor bark nor air. It was as large as Leonard’s fist, and disappeared briefly between a beat or two. Almost like….blinking.

Leonard’s heart stopped, his eyes back on Jim and Chekov, too far away from his grasp. There was a scream, and it took a second to realize that it was Chekov’s and not his own voice.  

“Jim, get down, now!”

Jim pushed Chekov to the ground just as a wooden club raced above their heads with terrifying force. There was a loud crack as a troll barged through whatever stood in his way as he trudged in closer. Lifting his club up again above his head, breaking every twig and branch he met before towering it down right where Jim and Chekov sat.

“Protego!” Undeterred by the recoil, the troll kept hammering away at the invisible shield. Just  enough time for Leonard to make a run for it until he stood between Jim and Chekov and the beast.

Trying to divide his attention between the both of them he attempted to create another shield whilst pulling at Chekov by the shirtsleeve, as the boy was now almost doubled down on himself, face hidden between his legs and hands over his ears. “Get him away from here!” he yelled at Jim, who moved to pull Chekov up until he stood on his feet.

The first shield above them shattered like glass as the troll bore down on it for the dozenth time, only to be stopped by the second. Leonard could almost feel the force behind it, but that was not where his attention was. He turned around to see whether Jim and Chekov were safe. They were further away, outside of the trolls grasp. Jim holding on to Chekov’s upper arm as he held the boy upright. Chekov was still cowering, his eyes shut tightly, but Jim’s eyes were on Leonard, wide and terrified.

“Run!” Leonard yelled, instinctively crouching when his shield was hit once more.

“No!” Jim pulled his wand. In protest, Leonard thought, until he heard another shattering sound. He whipped his head around to watch the club shatter his last shield. It kept moving until it closed up to about twenty inches from his face when refracted white light that was not his own work began to appear in front of him.

But it was too late.

Before the shield formed its epicenter the club powered through, shattering the whole. Leonard tried to duck, and the club missed his head by a hair's breadth, but not his chest.

Leonard gasped, felt all the breath knocked out of him as he got bashed onto the damp ground, his head spinning uncontrollably. Spinning so fast he couldn’t see, and it felt as though everything that were happening was taking place in a big hollow bathtub. He blinked, everything around him still fuzzy and dampened. He saw something large and looming coming his way, and even if he realized what it was, he couldn’t will his body to move.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash and the smell of burnt flesh followed by a loud thud and the pained howl of the troll as he dropped his club and reached for his one hand with the other. Leonard caught a glimpse of where fire had lashed out at the troll’s skin that now showed black and red lacerations.

Dizzy, scrambling to get up, he placed an arm behind him ignoring the almost blinding pain on his chest as he did so while his other arm patted on the dark ground looking for his wand. But every second upright made his head and chest throb in pain and even his arm didn’t move the way he wanted it to.

The troll roared, now angrier than ever. His wounded hand tried to reach for him, but every time he got too close Jim produced flashing sparks that burnt at the touch.  It gave Leonard enough time to find his wand, but also enough for the troll to realize the true usurper of his plan, and he had now abandoned trying to crush Leonard in favor of going after Jim who stood less than two feet away from him.

Jim stumbled back, trying to find equal footing. But he couldn’t bring himself to move away, with Chekov still somewhere behind him.

The beast was also too close for Leonard to send his most offensive spells flying the troll’s way. Desperate to grab his attention he moved for other spells, attempting to bind the troll’s hands and feet and flashing more lights in his general direction. Nauseous from exertion he threw one spell after the other, but the troll only had eyes for Jim.

It grabbed for his wand-wielding arm and had it, pulled Jim up and dangled him as if he were a rag doll. “ _Diffindo_!” The cuts in the trolls arm and fingers made him drop Jim who scrawled away as quick as he could, wandless as it fell somewhere between the troll’s feet.  

Leonard moved closer, wand flicking as he repeated his offense over and over with shallow cuts on the trolls chest, arms and legs. Just enough to distract him from crushing Jim beneath his feet and enough to bring the troll into a blind rage.

Leonard dove on top of Chekov and pulled his hand to his upper arm. “Do not let go,” he said. The sensation of Chekov’s fingers digging in his sweater made him almost faint in pain. He turned and held his hand out. “Jim!” he yelled, who needn’t been told twice but leapt closer, just barely evading the arms swinging his way. Leonard felt Jim’s fingers on his upper arm and then closed his eyes and tried his best to focus.  

The last thing he heard was Chekov’s cut of gasp as everything twisted and turned around them. In a split second the world turned black and all Leonard could do was concentrate as best he could and hope that neither Chekov nor Jim would slip away. When the twisting and pushing stopped they dropped onto the hard ground of damp moss and the hard roots of trees. A sharp pain jolted trough his body like electricity and he felt like he couldn’t breathe nor have the energy to sit up. In the dark under the shadow of trees he could see two figures moving, shifting in the muddy ground. Leonard closed his eyes and sighed in relief. They were both there. Good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so you guys it has been an awful long time. Lots of stuff happened, in the ST fandom and the HP fandom. Some of it good, and sadly some of it really bad. It's been a bit of a bumpy ride hasn't it? 
> 
> For all it's worth I am still writing this story because it makes me laugh out loud, so I hope you guys get a few laughs out of it as well. 
> 
> It may take longer than I hoped it would, but I have all the determination in the world to finish this tale. So bear with me till the end :) <3


	9. April (2)

Leonard shot awake gasping for air, as if he’d just been doused in ice cold water, a hand was on his shoulder, the one that wasn’t thumping with pain.

 

“We’re all right,” Jim said with a low voice before Leonard could ask. He could hear that it was Jim, but otherwise would be none the wiser as it was pitch black around them.

 

“Where’s Pavel?” Leonard asked, sitting up in shock, only to take a sharp breath in as a stinging sensation traveled though his body.

 

“ _Shh_.” Jim’s hand gently moved him back down. “He’s next to me and he’s fine, right Pavel?”

 

“Yeah,” an extremely soft voice croaked.

 

Leonard’s eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness and he began to see the dark outlines of Jim and Chekov close to him.

 

Somewhat relieved Leonard sighed, and with his left hand slowly began to pat himself down. “Where’s my,” breathing and talking felt very difficult. “Wand?”

 

“Somewhere around here,” Jim replied. Leonard could feel him shifting, most likely moving around. “Tried to look for it but it was too dark.”

 

“ _Lumos.”_

Leonard’s wand lit at the tip not too far away, and Jim stood up and ran towards it to pick it up. The spark the wand emitted undoubtedly hurt, but Jim seemed hardly to notice. He handed it back to Leonard. “Lucky we’ve at least got one. Pretty sure that troll crushed mine to mush.”

 

Leonard didn’t react, he willed the light to shine brighter and tried to sit up again. The movement made him groan in pain, and he only managed to get halfway there when Jim helped him up with both hands.

“I don’t think you should move,” Jim said, hand still under Leonard’s shoulders. “That thing hit you pretty bad, Bones.”

 

Leonard didn’t react. He held the wand in front of him to direct the light. He could now see Chekov sitting very close to him with his knees cropped up to his chest and his arms wrapped around it. He was covered in dirt and leaves but seemed otherwise unhurt. He didn’t seem very aware of his surroundings, and his eyes were unfocused.

 

Jim’s face, even under the dim light was covered in blood, mud and bruises. From the looks of the sleeves of his sweater, he had tried to wipe most of it away, but some of the bloodied cuts were only now starting to clot.

 

“What happened?” Leonard asked.

 

“After you apparated us here you kind of drifted off for a little bit. ” Jim said. “Tried wake you up every couple of minutes or so because I think you might have a concussion. But don’t know what time it is, or where we are.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Leonard said, he shifted onto his side a little more, but it felt like there was no position at all in which he could position himself where breathing didn’t hurt. “But we’re deeper in the forest. For better or for worse.”

 

“Figured as much.” Jim sat down against the tree trunk next to Leonard. “It was a good idea, I mean, it’s not like we could get any closer to the castle. And at least we got away from that…thing. We’ve been as quiet as we could just in case it would come looking for us, right Pav?”

 

Chekov was still quiet and pale as a sheet, sitting unsupported opposite Leonard and Jim, and didn’t seem to hear anything.

 

Half crawling to stay low Jim shifted towards him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hey, Pav, we’re going to be just fine. We’re absolutely safe now, I promise.”

 

Leonard didn’t feel as though they were safe at all, but decided it was best to bite his tongue. There were more important things to do. “Jim, could you help me on my feet.”

 

Jim’s eyes clearly showed doubt, but he helped Leonard to his feet as much as he could and kept holding on to him as they made small steps away from the support of the tree. Glancing up he was sure he saw a little glimpse of a night sky peering through the foliage.

 

He aimed his wand up, stretched out as much as he could manage, and sent out a bright yellow beam of fiery light up into the sky. He watched it rise until he almost lost sight of it, before it began combusting with a sizzling sound, like fireworks and moved down in slowly descending beams, like a fountain of golden light in the sky.

 

Instead of slowly lowering his arm he dropped it to his side, which was the biggest mistake he could have made. The pain that moved through his body made him want to either faint or throw up and the world around him turned pitch black while he felt all the strength in his legs disappear. There was a yell, Jim perhaps, so dull that it sounded miles away. Then the pain was completely gone.

 

It felt like a mere seconds later when he began to feel again, but everything was completely different. For one, it wasn’t cold and musty anymore, and his eyes were being coaxed to open by light around him. He felt snug, dry and warm.

 

Once again he could hear the familiar sound of Jim speaking, though he heard every word he couldn’t quite grasp them, and they blended as if they were background sound with another voice so familiar he was certain he was dreaming. Once in a while he drifted away again in silence only to hear the familiar voice again, and again. This cycle repeated itself until he tried to open his eyes.

 

The voice came closer and a familiar cool hand ran through his hair, and though the prospect of staying asleep was very tempting, the feeling of that movement was enough for him to want to open his eyes.

 

His father was sitting beside him and smiling gently.

 

Leonard had been told that he bore a striking resemblance to his father, but had hardly ever seen it himself. It wasn’t just the fact that he could only imagine what he would look like with an actual gentle smile. David McCoy had that rare trait that many healers craved, but very few actually possessed. The innate talent to, with his presence alone, create a sense of comfort. Whenever he was there, it felt like all was right again and could never go wrong.

 

“Dad.” Leonard’s voice felt as dry as sandpaper and nothing like his own.

 

His father smiled again. “Yes, Len.”

 

He didn’t know whether it was his father’s voice that did it, but he bit the inside of his lip while silent tears rolled down his cheeks. His father continued to run his fingers through his hair.

 

“You did a very brave thing out there, Lenny. Very brave.”

 

“I don’t feel brave,” Leonard said. He quickly wiped his face with the edge of his blanket and sniffed as he composed himself. “Where are Pavel and Jim?”

 

“Professor Pike came to take them to the headmaster about an hour ago, they wanted to hear the story as soon as they were able. Here, let me help you.” His father helped Leonard as he tried sit up, and the pain that was there before was now nothing more than an annoying soreness on his chest. The hospital wing was deserted but for him and his dad, as was probably the rest of the castle, who had left for their homes in the morning.

 

Judging by the way the sun came in through the windows it was probably already late in the afternoon.

 

“Are you going back home today?” Leonard asked. He didn’t like to admit it, but after the many months of not having seen his father, it had to be his presence to assure him that he had missed him very much if not more after what happened.

 

“I will speak to your headmaster first.” His father had pulled off his glasses and cleaned it with a gentle tap of his wand. “And afterwards, we will go home together.”

 

Leonard sighed and let his head sink in the pillows supporting his back. “I feel like I could sleep for an entire year.”

 

His father smiled and shook his head. “Philip gave you something for the pain. You should thank him, I am never so doting on my patients.” It was a good-natured joke, but though the tears had stopped, Leonard still felt himself closer to tears than laughter. On the nightstand next to him he could see his head boy badge, slightly gleaming in the light, and he wanted nothing more than to throw it out of the window.

 

His father noticed and picked up the shiny piece of metal between his index finger and thumb, looking at it with scrutinizing eyes. “It isn’t much different from that of your mother I should say. But it has not found a better keeper in my opinion.”

 

Leonard didn’t say anything. Too tired to protest or otherwise, he let his father speak, with his mind half in and out. Catching a few words here and there but not listening, not really. His mind was elsewhere, in a deep forest, scared for his life and worse, for that of Jim and Chekov.

 

It was all still so fresh in his mind, and very much alive for him. And ll that ran though his mind was how he could have prevented it all from happening. All he could occupy his mind with was the many things he had done wrong, and honestly, he was scrambling for the moment to begin.

 

Had it been only today, or only yesterday when he had spent his time breaking his own rules? Condoning the misconduct of others? How many excuses had he made to himself for his own disinterest in his work? Despite wearing the badge and constantly roiling those two syllables out like word vomit he had done nothing but complain about the work, and trivialize it. _Head Boy_ , the words alone made him ashamed.

 

He felt an almost crushing guilt for his behavior, that produced a pent up energy in him that was almost unbearable. Until he wasn’t sure whether was sad, ashamed or angry.

 

From his peripherals he could see professor Archer standing in the doorway. His father stood up from his chair, but not before letting go of the head boy badge, and placing it in the palm of Leonard’s hand.

 

“I’ll be back,” his father said, stroking one hand through Leonard’s hair one last time before donning his cloak and walking off.

 

What followed was an even heavier silence, with him and his thoughts. Stroking the badge with his thumb inside of his palm he sighed. Unable to rest, but wise enough to know he was not getting out of the Hospital Wing without the permission of Boyce or his father.

 

So he lay down in silence, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable in the place that once felt like a second home to him.

 

He couldn’t sleep either, knowing that the second he closed his eyes he would be served fresh images of the troll crushing Jim between his meaty fingers, combined with Chekov’s terrified screams in the distance. So he had no choice but to bite his cheek and keep his eyes open, trying to focus on the open window that let in a fresh spring breeze.

 

He was too busy in his own thoughts to notice Jim entering the wing until he stood right in front of him, and with a concerned look on his face.

 

“Bones?” he asked, and from the tone of his voice it wasn’t the first time he’d said it after entering.

 

Leonard looked at him, gave him his attention, but felt no urge to say something in return.

 

“Where is Mr. McCoy?” he asked, taking the chair his father was previously sitting on and sitting next to Leonard.

 

“He left to speak with the headmaster,” Leonard replied, his eyes were still fixed on the open window in front of his.

 

“Oh,” Jim said, and he remained quiet for a second before speaking again. “He was already here when we came back. Your dad I mean. Professor Eggleton sent for him and he came right away.”

 

“He told me.”

 

“Oh…well.” Jim shifted on his chair and glanced at his feet for a second.

 

He was obviously confused by Leonard’s aloof behavior, but Leonard didn’t care.

“He’s…a bit different than I thought he’d be,” Jim tried again, in an almost chipper tone.

 

Leonard didn’t move. “Different,” he repeated.

 

Red rose to Jim’s cheeks. “I mean, he was very nice to me and I don’t mean anything by it. Only…you know, when he came in here he was so calm I couldn’t tell whether he was really angry or really worried.” Jim paused and looked at Leonard. “He looks like you, or, I mean, you look like him, but he’s different too.”

 

“Very different.”  

 

Jim let out a little chuckle. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.” Then his smile disappeared. “He asked me and Pav about what happened yesterday, and he was dead quiet when he listened to us. Only interrupted once or twice if something wasn’t clear, but didn’t interject really. Pav was crying the whole time.”

 

Leonard turned to Jim. “Chekov was crying?”

 

Jim nodded. “He was going on about how sorry he was to put us all in danger, especially you, for some reason he thought you were dying or something. He only calmed down when your dad got Professor Pike to get us. I tried to console him, but he wouldn’t really listen to me, so.”

 

“You tried to console him?” Leonard was now completely facing Jim.

 

“Well, yeah.” Jim arched his brow. “I mean, he thought we were pretty much dead meat.”

 

Leonard could feel the anger rising up from his chest like fire. “And we were.” 

 

The sound Jim made was slightly dismissive, and he tilted his head. “But we’re not. We’re here.”

 

“But not thanks to him, Jim. Something really bad could’ve happened. You shouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Done what?” Jim’s tone began to match that of Leonard’s, though decidedly cooler, as if their argument was about their favorite Quidditch player. “Tell a first year student that things were going to be okay? What should I have done, left him crying in the middle of the room all alone?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous? He’s just a kid who made a mistake. It’s not his fault a troll wandered so close to the edge of the forest.”

 

“That forest is off limits for students and he knew it,” Leonard replied, trying to keep his voice in check. “Perhaps if his peers weren’t so lenient on the rules he didn’t feel the need to make so light of them.”

 

The jab was unfair but landed perfectly. Jim’s cheeks darkened but he was more perplexed than angry. “I didn’t tell him to go into the forest in the middle of the night by himself,” he said defensively.

 

“No, but you did tell him how to leave the castle. He sees you leave the common room after curfew a dozen times and you tell him all these stories. What did you think would happen?”

 

Jim was quiet and against his better judgement, Leonard used the silence to press on. “You don’t even realize that your behavior let others believe that every kind of danger is nothing more than a fun little adventure. How did you console him? Promised him the prospect of fighting more trolls in the foreseeable future?”

 

“That’s not what I said at all. Look, I was just trying to cheer him up.”

 

“He didn’t need cheering up, Jim. He shouldn’t have been cheered up about what happened,

he should feel bad about it, should’ve learned from it.”

 

“But he _will_ learn from it. He’s not stupid, nor am I making light of what happened. But I don’t want Pavel to be scared of his own shadow at night because of what happened either. I don’t know what you want me to say in order to make you believe me, but I was just trying to help.”

 

“Help how, Jim?” Leonard’s voice was raised and heated, he couldn’t not. The pent up energy inside him vibrated, had to go somewhere else, anywhere but himself. But the kind of heat that usually made his peers cry was met with only defiance by Jim. “You would’ve helped me if you would’ve kept out, if you would’ve stayed in the castle like I told you to, if you went to your room after curfew, if you didn’t crash into the ground every time you held a broom.”

 

Jim shot up from his chair, his eyes dark like an ocean in a storm. “So not be myself then?” he challenged. “I’ve got news for you, Bones, I’m always going to be this way.”

 

“You think that, but you’re not.” Leonard’s voice dropped and the flare of anger had dampened, only so much so that he could relax back into his pillow, but it kept burning in his chest still. “One day you’re going to grow up and find out that in real life, risks have consequences.”

 

“Grow up?” Jim yelled, his voice no longer restrained. Slightly startled, Leonard’s eyes darted from Jim’s furious expression, to his hands, curled into the comforter of Leonard’s bed in tight fists. The next words Jim let out were gritted and yet perfectly clear. “You know what your problem is, Head Boy?” The badge still clutched in Leonard’s hand began to grow hot in his hand and he quickly dropped it from his fingers before it burnt his skin. Jim’s eyes hadn’t moved from Leonard’s, and if he had noticed he decidedly didn’t care. “You think you’re better than everyone else.”

 

“I don’t—” Leonard attempted to interject but Jim wouldn’t let him.

 

“Yes you do! And what’s even more pathetic, you can’t even admit it.” Jim’s eyes began to gleam with fresh forming tears, too thin to fall. “Hiding behind your NEWTS and that stupid badge when we both know you’re nothing but a coward who is too afraid to let himself have a genuine feeling for once.”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

 

When Jim finally unclenched his fists from Leonard’s duvet, his voice was cold and eerily calm. “As if you don’t already know.” He moved away from Leonard, slowly. So slow that had he tried Leonard could have caught him by the wrists, grazed the tip of his fingers. But Leonard sat frozen in place, unable to talk or even breathe. And Jim shook his head, as if that too disappointed him.

 

“I’m not going to ‘grow up’ Leonard,” he said in all finality. “because I’m not ashamed of being myself and I have no intention to be. I suggest you learn to do the same.” Then he turned his around and left the hospital wing without looking back.

 

What felt like hours but were actual seconds Leonard finally felt like he could breathe again. He looked down to where is badge laid, now turned over on top of his duvet. It was covered in a thick layer of hoarfrost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double chapter update, YAS! 'T is true.


End file.
